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by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 103,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've never believed in soulmates, but I do believe if you’re really lucky, someone will come along and be everything you need them to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Most Beautiful Girl in the World

When I was little my Dad used to read this story to me. I can't remember what it was called exactly but I know it was a fairy tale. I loved it so much I would make him read it to me every, single night before bed.

There was this one line in it that's always stuck with me, or at least the meaning behind it did. I can't remember the actual words but it was something to do with people never being able to explain themselves properly, and that there are always reasons behind the things that people do that you'll never completely understand.

Sometimes people say that I'm too nice or that I'm a pushover; like my friends or my boyfriend, Sam. But the truth is, whenever people do things that I know I should probably get mad about, I just can't get that book and that line out of my head.

Maybe that's odd, I don't know, but I'm happy and I never get into fights with people so I figure it can't be that bad. And it's comforting to know that other people have a hard time explaining themselves sometimes too. I think sometimes making yourself understood can be the hardest thing in the world.

So now I mostly just keep quiet during conversations because it's better than saying something that everybody else thinks is wrong. Except now I'm pretty sure most people just think I'm weird or boring instead and I'm not sure which is better.

Sometimes I think it would be easier to just not talk to people at all. But I would be sad if I did that because I love people.

I know I'm spending way too much time thinking about this; it just bothers me a lot sometimes that I can't explain or understand things. Like this one time when I was little, me and my brother were jumping up and down on my bed, which was against the rules, when the door opened and our Mom walked in.

I froze like a frightened bunny rabbit but my brother had the sense to jump off the bed and sit on the floor. It was obvious that we had both been jumping on the bed but I was the only one who had been caught red-handed.

My Mom grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out of the room. I kept yelling and crying that Ryan was doing it too but she just kept saying "I know, but you're the one I saw". I got a spank on the butt and had to stand in the corner for five minutes which turned into much longer because my Mom forgot she left me there.

To this day I don't get why I'm the only one who got punished. I mean, yeah, she only saw me, but she knew we were both doing it. Stuff like that happened a lot when I was growing up though, I just got used to it; my Mom is a lot closer with Ryan than she is with me.

I don't mind or anything, it's sweet and they're really similar. They're both confident and colorful and have really quick tempers. I'm the total opposite; I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've lost my temper in my life. My Mom likes outgoing people who talk and make a lot of jokes and I am definitely not like that.

Ryan is. Plus he's almost two years younger than me so up until our sister was born, he was the baby. Maybe that has something to do with it too.

Still, it used to make me sad sometimes; I used to wish she and my Dad were still together. I was always super close with my Dad so when he was around me and Ryan had one each. Then when I was eight they broke up and my Mom moved us to Lima, Ohio to be near her family while my Dad stayed in Nebraska.

He used to visit for Christmas and birthdays but I haven't seen him in a couple of years now. It's really my fault, I'm twenty-three and I've lived alone off and on since I was eighteen. I should really be doing grown up stuff like visiting my Dad in Nebraska. I just haven't gotten around to it yet.

My train of thought is interrupted when I feel a wet splodge on my left hand. "Miss Pierce?"

I look to my left in what feels like slow motion when I hear my name being called. Emily, the little girl sitting next to me, has apparently been trying to get my attention by jabbing at my hand with her wet paintbrush. I look down at my now yellow hand and then back to Emily. " _Miss Pierce_?"

"Yeah, sweetie?" I croak out. My mouth feels a little dry; it must have been hanging open again.

"Can you help me with my picture? I wanna paint my Mommy with a sea horse," she says, smiling up at me. I grin back at her.

"Sure, what do you want me-"

I'm cut off by a loud whistle sounding three times, signalling class will be ending in ten minutes and we have to start clearing up. I look up just as Rachel spits out the whistle hanging around her neck and turns her attention to the little red-headed boy, Max, who's trying to show her his painting.

I look down and chuckle to myself. All the other teachers thought Rachel was crazy when she introduced her whistle idea but it sure as hell works. The kids all get straight to clearing up as soon as they hear it.

I push my chair out, stand up and stretch my arms as I look down at Emily. "Looks like we'll have to wait 'til next some, sweet pea. Time to clean up. You, Jack and Sophie clear away this table while I go help Miss Berry clean up paper mache stuff, okay?" I say, smiling down at the three of them. They all nod at me and get to work.

I start making my way across the crowded classroom, trying to avoid any collisions with children in smocks carrying various arts and crafts materials.

I love my job; I'm a teaching assistant in a kindergarten class. I pretty much just hang out with little kids all day and make a mess and then get paid for it, it's awesome. Rachel can be kind of bossy sometimes but she just likes things run a certain way, and this is her classroom, and she's a really good teacher; the kids love her. I think it's because she's kind of like a cartoon character.

She was also really nice to me when I first started here. I think she could tell I was shy so she took me under her wing and made a point of introducing me to all the other staff. I try to ignore the other teachers when they call her annoying and stuff, I just look away and try to think of something else to say. I hate conversations like that, and I always feel bad for just saying nothing instead of standing up for her. I'm weak, I guess.

I approach Rachel who seems to be having some trouble peeling newspaper off of her gooey hands. "Need a hand there, Rach?" I ask, grinning. She looks at me and nods _yes_.

We both giggle as I peel the rest of the soggy newspaper off of her hands. By the time we finish the kids have pretty much tidied up everything and all that's left to do is help them into their little coats and send them off into the arms of their waiting parents.

Emily hugs me before she leaves, as always. I know we're not supposed to have favorites but she's just too sweet for words. After the last kid leaves the room Rachel and I both slump down onto the little couch in the corner. "I'm so glad it's home time," I mumble, exhausted.

"It's home time for you," she replies. "I still have marking to do and reports to write...and then I'm meeting up with this Santana girl who's starting tomorrow. I am _so_ not in the mood for meeting new people."

"Why do you have to meet her today?" I ask. I know she's told me before but sometimes I accidently daydream when she talks. Rachel sighs and gives me an exasperated look.

"Because... she's a good friend of Kurt's, which is why I agreed to put in a good word for her in the first place, and he asked me to meet her before she starts so she'd know somebody here and wouldn't be so nervous. This is her first teaching job since she graduated." She enunciates every word as if she's talking to a toddler. I suck my lips into my mouth and nod. Kurt, I think I've met him. _Yeah I did_ , at Rachel's birthday party.

"Kurt, he's the one who was at your birthday party, right? Kept talking about Steve McQueen or something?" I ask quietly, trying to think back to our conversation.

" _Alexander_ McQueen..." she chuckles. "And yes, that was Kurt. Anyway, he was quite emphatic about how important it was that I help her get a job here after I told him about the vacancy in the second grade class. Something about visibility and equality and the more gay teachers and doctors and lawyers there are, the better blah blah blah. Personally I think he's a little OTT with the gay issues sometimes. You know, I think..."

I know Rachel is still talking so I keep nodding and smiling but I'd actually stopped listening as soon as she implied that this Santana girl played for Kurt's team. It always gives me this weird feeling when people say that word, like being shocked out of a falling dream.

I shake my head and force my thoughts towards Sam. I love Sam so much, and my family do too; especially my Mom.

I remember the first time she met him; it was over six years ago now, back when we first started dating. She pulled me aside and whispered, " _He's great, how'd you pull that one off?_ _"_ I gave her the dorkiest grin when she said that and turned bright red.

Back when we were in high school I used to bring Sam home with me sometimes after school and we'd study together. My Mom would actually cook dinner when he was there and we'd sit at the table and eat it like a real family, and Sam and my Mom would get on like a house on fire. Those are some of the happiest memories I have with my Mom.

"Brittany? Hello? Are you even listening? God, you are such a space cadet..." Rachel rolls her eyes at me and leans back on the couch.

"Sorry, yeah, I mean, I was totally listening. Uh, Kurt's… gay with Santana," I stutter. Santana, that's a funny name.

"What?" Rachel says with her brow furrowed. "I was asking if you'd given any thought to maybe finishing college and getting your teaching degree, like you'd planned?" she asks, shaking her head. I try to remember when we got onto this topic.

"Oh, um, yeah sure, one day… when I save up enough money. Although I kinda like just being an assistant, it's all the fun and none of the stress," I say through a dorky grin. Rachel smiles and rolls her eyes.

"Yeah but the money is terrible. I mean, you and Sam must be thinking about settling down and stuff. Finn and I are engaged already and we haven't been together anywhere near as long as you two, and you'll need a bigger apartment if you and Sam want to move in together." She's talking to me like a toddler again and I really don't want to have this conversation with her.

"We've talked about living together, it's not gonna happen any time soon. Anyway, you're three years older than me, Grandma, stop trying to tie me down," I say with a wink. She chuckles and slaps me on the knee as she stands up.

"Right, well I'd better get back to work, you are dismissed, Miss Pierce," she says with a smirk.

"Thank you, Miss Berry," I giggle. And with that, I head out.

As I'm walking across the schoolyard I can't help but think about what Rachel said to me. I had always planned to go back to college some day, when I'd saved up enough money. But it's been almost four years now, and I haven't saved up any money. In fact I'm still paying back the loans I took out for the first year.

Plus if I went back to college I'd have to quit my job which means I'd have to move back home with my Mom because there's no way I could afford to live in the dorms again, and I don't think she'd like that very much.

I don't even have a room there anymore anyway. She turned it into a study as soon as I moved out. What she studies in there I'm not quite sure, she doesn't even work. Maybe she meant a library; she does read a lot.

It would be nice to earn a little more money though, struggling to pay bills and buy food does get a little tiresome. It sucks sometimes, having to try so hard to stay afloat.

A flash of blonde hair catches my eye as I'm walking. I look up and see a little blue-eyed girl running across the schoolyard towards me, grinning and waving. I stop and crouch down with my arms open and an equally big grin on my face. She jumps at me and throws her arms around my neck with such force I almost fall backwards as I close my arms around her torso. I chuckle and stand up, still holding her. "What's up, squirt?" I ask through a mouthful of hair.

"I'm up," she replies. I chuckle again; girl's witty. I put her down and we begin walking towards the school gate hand-in-hand. I look down at her.

"So how was your day, Katie-kins? Learn lots of awesome stuff?" I say with a wink. She smiles back at me and starts telling me about all the stuff she did in class.

This is, hands-down, the best part of my day. Katie is my little sister; she's eight years old and she's in the second grade class here. When I first started I was hoping I'd be able to work in her class but the school wouldn't allow it for some reason that I didn't listen to. So I ended up with Rachel. This is our routine now; I meet her in the schoolyard at the end of the day and walk with her to the parking lot where our Mom will be waiting to take her home.

As we round the corner to the lot I see her car in its usual spot. I wish I could spend more time with Katie, but this is pretty much all I get to see of her. I miss her a lot, she's kind of the apple of my eye, and I'm getting to watch her turn into this amazing little person. Well, I'm kind of getting to watch in snippets, but it's better than nothing, I guess.

As we get closer to the car I notice my Mom is smoking through a crack in the window, her dirty-blonde hair blowing a little in the breeze. I really wish she would get out of the car to smoke, I hate the thought of Katie breathing in that stuff. I know my Mom and Richard, my Step-Dad, smoke around the house too, but she gets really mad if I bring it up and starts calling me stuff like 'self-righteous'. So I decide not to say anything. She winds down the window fully as we approach the car and greets us.

"Hey, girls," she says in her husky voice.

"Hey, Mom," we reply in unison. Katie giggles as I open the rear door and help her into her car seat.

"You have a good day, honey?" My Mom asks Katie as I'm buckling her in.

"Yeah, Tyler kissed me on the lips!" She squeaks, and I giggle as I remember how excited she looked when she was telling me about it on our walk across the schoolyard. My Mom lets out a snorted laugh.

"Aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" she teases, smiling at my sister through the rear-view mirror.

"No Mommy, I'm eight now. I'm gonna be a teenager soon," Katie replies, indignant. My Mom and I both chuckle as I shut the door. I step side-wards so I'm by the driver's window.

"Same time tomorrow, then?" My Mom mumbles as she turns the key in the ignition.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," I reply, but I don't think she heard me because the window is already going back up. I smile and wave at Katie in the back as they pull away and drive out of the parking lot. I stand there and wave until the car is out of sight, then I turn on my heels and head towards the bus stop. I kind of wish my Mom would offer me a ride home sometimes, I hate getting the bus. Maybe she's worried I'll make a mess in her car. I am a little messy.

/

I walk through the door of my studio apartment to find Sam on the couch eating Cheetos and watching The View. He grabs and fumbles with the remote, trying to change the channel before I see, but drops it before he can.

"Hey," I greet him as I close the door behind me.

"Hey," he replies, his cheeks turning ever-so-slightly pink.

I giggle at his cuteness as I hang my jacket on the hook. I glance at my hand and realize I forgot to wash the paint off and it's still yellow and make a mental note to wash it off later. I walk over to the couch and drop down next to Sam.

He immediately puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head with his cheesy lips. I feel my stomach tie itself in guilty knots at the action and I close my eyes as I try to shake the feeling off.

"I hope you don't mind that I got here before you, I just had to get out of the house, my Mom's been driving me crazy," he says through a mouthful of Cheetos. I smile at the mention of his mother, she's great, if maybe a little overbearing sometimes. She's always been super nice to me though.

"That's okay," I reply, "that's what I gave you a key for." I smile up at him and he pecks me on the lips and lets out a contented sigh. _This is okay. This is okay._ I say it over and over in my head like a mantra.

"Any luck with the job hunting today?" I ask, trying to think of something, anything else. He seems to deflate as soon as those words leave my lips though.

"No, not today," he says, dejected. I feel so bad for him, I know how inadequate being out of work has been making him feel and I kind of regret bringing it up. It's not his fault, he's a qualified gym instructor, there just aren't that many gyms in Lima.

"Don't worry, honey," I coo, "something'll come up, there's no rush." I try to smile reassuringly but it probably just looks creepy so I stop. He smiles before leaning down and pushing his lips into mine.

"Thanks," he mumbles as he pulls away and goes back to watching the TV. I look at the side of his face for a little while, watching as the different colors and shapes from the television play across his features. He really is the nicest boy ever.

I let my head rest on Sam's chest and just try to focus on the way it moves up and down as he breathes.

"Is it okay if I bring Puck and Quinn over this Saturday? It'd be nice to hang out with my friends without my Mom breathing down our necks." I feel the words rumbling through his chest more than I actually hear them.

"Sure," I reply. "I was gonna go get coffee with Tina on Saturday though, so you'll have to let yourselves in."

Tina has been my best friend since middle school. She's an awesome friend and we're really close. She's always been super protective of me, like this one time in high school, some guy called me a bimbo and she held one of those compass things you use to draw circles up to his throat and made him apologize. It was scary but sweet at the same time.

"What? You're not gonna hang out with us?" Sam asks, incredulous, and turns to face me so I have to sit up.

"Um, well, I already said I'd hang out with Tina, I don't wanna cancel," I reply quietly without looking him in the eye. I'm not that great with eye contact anyway, but combined with confrontation I'm pretty sure it's the worst thing ever.

"I know but you see Tina all the time, I want you to hang out with us. I thought it could be like a double-date." He pouts. I'm confused now because we hang out with Puck and Quinn all the time. I see them more than I see Tina. I scrunch my eyebrows together but still don't look up.

"But, you're just gonna be hanging around the apartment, that's not really a date-"

"Britt, come on, be fair..." he whines.

What the hell, I guess the least I can do is give him this. Sam has always been a little weird about my friends; I don't think he likes them very much.

He once told me he didn't like the thought of me having fun with anybody else because he wanted to be the only one to make me happy. I thought that was super sweet. I do kind of miss my friends though; I don't get to see them as much as I used to. Even Tina. I used to see her pretty much every day but I only see her a couple of times a week now if I'm lucky.

"Yeah sure, okay. I'll just see if Tina's free Sunday." I can look at him now so I do and smile. He smiles too and lets out a relieved breath before turning back to the TV. He puts his arm around my shoulders again and pulls me back to his chest so I snake an arm over his stomach and enjoy the warmth. I do like cuddling.

We're both too tired to cook so we manage to scrounge together enough money between us to order a pizza. Then we watch TV for a few more hours without much conversation passing between us before Sam decides to go home.

He usually only stays over on weekends because I get up early during the week and he knows I don't sleep that well when I have to share a bed. He stretches and makes a weird baby dinosaur noise that makes me snort with laughter before getting up and walking over to the front door.

I follow him before stopping and turning around. I look at the mess we've made while he's putting his jacket on and decide to clean it up in the morning. When I turn back to him he's standing in the open doorway and looking at me with a funny little smile on his face.

"What?" I ask, looking at my feet bashfully. I grab his hand with both of mine and rub my thumbs over the back of it.

"Nothing," he replies. "I'm just really lucky to have you." He cups my cheek with his free hand and leans in to place a gentle kiss on my lips. I try my best to smile as he pulls away but the guilty knot from earlier comes back and makes my throat feel way too tight.

"Goodnight," I manage to croak out.

"G'night," he says back and then he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

When he's gone I turn back around and let out a heavy sigh. I decide to tidy up our mess tonight rather than wait until the morning because I'll never be able to sleep knowing it's there. I walk over to coffee table, feeling like there's a giant monkey sitting on my shoulders.

I pick up the empty pizza box and the Cheetos bag and put them in the garbage before gathering up the six beer bottles we managed to get through and putting them on the kitchen counter, ready to be recycled. When I'm finished I go and sit back on the couch and decide to watch whatever happens to be on TV since I can't see the remote. It's just commercials so I stare through the TV rather than at it.

It doesn't take long for my throat to start feeling impossibly tight and my chest to constrict painfully. I close my eyes as my shoulders curves inwards and hot tears start rolling down my cheeks.

I sob until I'm too exhausted to keep my eyes open.

/

I'm woken up by the alarm on my cell phone. It takes me a few seconds to open my eyes because they're kind of stuck together; I must have forgotten to take off my make-up before bed. They feel so dry and sore and I have the worst case of cottonmouth ever. I rub my eyes and look around and that's when I realize I'm not in my bed, I'm on the couch. I suddenly remember last night, crying myself to sleep in front of the TV. God, what is _wrong_ with me?

I pull a cushion over my face and press it down, trying to ignore the beeping from my phone but it's way too annoying. I have to get up and turn it off. I throw the cushion off my face, sit up and look around. Where the hell _is_ my phone? The sound is coming from by the front door where my purse is sitting on the floor. I must not have taken it out when I got home yesterday.

I get up really slowly and walk over to where my purse is. I'm so shaky, I feel like Bambi taking his first steps. After I switch off the most annoying alarm in the world I go to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

I start raiding the cupboards for something for breakfast while the coffee is making; I really need to buy some food. I find some pop tarts right at the back and grin to myself. Jackpot. I start reading the label on the side of the box after I've put them in the toaster. They're a little past their expiration date but I'm sure it'll be fine. Pop tarts can't really go bad, right?

After breakfast and lots of coffee I take a shower and brush my teeth. Ever since I can remember I've always brushed my teeth in the shower. I'm not sure why, it's not like anybody taught me to do it that way. Sam always tells me it's weird.

_Sam._

Thinking of him makes my shoulders slouch. That monkey is on my back again.

When I look in the mirror to do my make-up I notice how tired I look. I'm pale and washed-out and there are dark circles under my eyes. I poke and prod at my face while I try to figure out why I look and feel so tired. I know I spent the night on the couch but I _did_ sleep. I guess I'll just have to break out the concealer.

It takes me way longer than it usually does to get dressed; I just can't seem to wake up properly this morning. It feels like I'm moving under water; I try to move faster but it just doesn't happen. No matter how hard I try to straighten my back and stand up straight my shoulders stay hunched over slightly. I feel so heavy. I trudge back out into the kitchen to pack my lunch.

The bus ride to work is awful. I try to give up my seat for a pregnant lady but it turns out she's not actually pregnant and she spends the rest of the journey staring daggers at me. At least she gets off at the stop before mine so I get to relax for a few minutes before my day really begins.

It only takes me a few minutes once I'm in class to remember why I actually bothered to get up and come to work today. As soon as the kids start filing into the room, giggling and skipping and waving hello to me, I feel like the world gets a whole shade lighter. That's one of the things I love about this job; I can be in the worst mood ever but the kids always make me feel better. This has got to be the happiest job in the world. I really don't get why teachers are always going on strike.

Rachel corners me right after the kids go out for recess. I usually use this time to call Sam, but she says she needs to talk to me about something important so we go and sit down on the couch in the corner of the classroom again.

She pulls two bananas out of her lunch box and gives one to me before setting the box down on the floor. She does this every day; gives me a banana at recess. I used to tell her she didn't need to, that I'd eat during our lunch break, but she always insisted that I should have a healthy morning snack too, so I don't argue anymore. Arguing with Rachel is like doing algebra: pointless and confusing. I thank her for the banana and wait for her to start talking.

"So, it's not a big deal or anything but I just wanted to give you a heads up," she begins. She's looking really hard at my face. She's probably just making sure I'm listening and I don't blame her. "You know I met with that Santana girl after work yesterday?"

I nod and take a bite out of my banana.

"Well, you remember I told you something about her, something kind of personal, about her being... _gay_." She leans in close and whispers the last word and my heart does that thing where it feels like you're falling backwards off your chair. I just nod again and she sits back.

"Well, she asked me at dinner yesterday if I could keep it to myself. She's not in the closet or anything, obviously, or she would never have met Kurt, but she said she likes to keep her private life separate from her work life or something." She waves her hand dismissively. "Anyway, I know I already told you sort of, but that was before I knew she didn't want anybody to know. So, if you could just keep it to yourself?"

I feel like she took way longer explaining that than she needed to. And why does she think I would tell people? I would never do that. It's nice of her to check though, I guess. If this girl doesn't want people to know, it's good of Rachel to make sure I'm not going to tell anyone. It's probably because she has two gay Dads.

"Yeah, of course, my lips are sealed." I smile at her and then go back to eating my banana. She smiles back and looks a little relieved. _Was she really that worried that I would tell people?_

"Excellent, because I would really like to avoid getting on her bad side if possible," she says, and her eyes dart around the room quickly before settling back on me.

"Why? Is her family in the Mafia?" That would be so cool. Rachel narrows her eyes at me.

"Um... no," she answers slowly. "She just had, I don't know, a menacing quality?"

Is she _asking_ me? I've never even met her.

"I think it would be really easy to antagonize her. I don't think she smiled once the whole evening, and I'm pretty sure she made one of the waiters cry. I just don't want us to get off on the wrong foot. It creates a bad working environment and I wouldn't want the children to suffer as a result," she concludes with a nod. I return the nod and smile.

"Right, I see."

I _don't_ see.

Since when did not smiling make you a menace? It just makes you sad, or maybe just not in a smiling mood. Maybe something bad happened before she went to dinner. And sometimes Rachel does rub people up the wrong way; I know she never means the things she says to be offensive, like when she gives people advice and stuff. I think you have to get to know Rachel a little to really appreciate her version of being helpful.

/

The rest of the morning goes by pretty quickly. The kids finish off their art projects from yesterday, and then Rachel reads them a story while I hand out cartons of milk. By lunch time I'm starving; the hunger always kind of creeps up on me around this time every day. I think it's because I can smell the food from the cafeteria. I wait for Rachel by the door of the classroom after the kids have all left with the lunch monitor. She's fiddling around with something on her desk and it takes her a minute or so to notice I'm standing there.

"Oh, Brittany," she says when she looks up. "I told Santana I'd meet her at lunch and show her where the teachers' lounge is, so you can just go ahead. We'll meet you in there." She smiles and goes back to whatever she was doing to her desk.

I'm tempted to tell her Santana probably already knows where the teachers' lounge is because Principal Schuester would have shown her when she started, just like he did with the rest of us. But I know Rachel likes to be helpful, and who am I to deny her that? I tell her _okie dokie_ and walk to the teachers' lounge by myself.

I have to walk right by the cafeteria on the way there and it makes my tummy grumble so loud. I don't know why I'm so hungry; I had pop tarts and a banana this morning. I usually don't have _any_ breakfast, just the banana Rachel gives me.

When I get in there I head towards mine and Rachel's usual spot in the far corner and sit on the little couch with my back to the door. Then I realize there's only room for one other person on the couch so I grab a spare chair from the table on the other side of the room and put it opposite the couch so that it's facing me. I'm not sure if Santana is going to be joining us for lunch or not but I want her to have the option.

I take the lunch box out of my purse and rip the lid off almost embarrassingly fast before looking self-consciously around the room. I don't think anybody noticed. I grab the cheese sandwich first and take a huge bite out of it. Food has never tasted this good.

I can hear the screaming and laughing from the kids playing outside and I wonder briefly if Katie is out there. The kids that are playing outside right now are the ones who throw their lunch down their necks like gannets, barely taking the time the chew, just so they have longer to play before their lunch hour is over. I kind of hope Katie is one of those kids.

"Brittany?" I hear somebody say my name and look to my left where there are two clothed midriffs next to the couch. I let my eyes drift upwards and see Rachel smiling down at me. She's standing next to, I assume, Santana and I feel my eyes get a little wider. She's _so_ pretty; the prettiest girl I've ever seen, I think. She looks so out of place here. "This is Santana Lopez, the new second grade teacher. Santana, this is Brittany Pierce, my assistant," Rachel says through her smile. Santana reaches her hand towards me.

"Hi," she mutters. I immediately want her to say something else, her voice sounds like what dark red crushed velvet would sound like if it could talk. I want her to talk again, just so I can make sure I heard it right. I can't believe how beautiful she is, she looks like Pocahontas, except prettier. And when before I thought _Santana_ was a funny name, now I think it's the sexiest name I've ever heard.

"Um... Brittany?" Rachel snaps me out of my daze. I realize Santana is still waiting for me to shake her hand and I must have just been sitting here staring at her. I feel my face get really hot and my ears start to throb. I must look like the world's biggest dork right now. I look away from her face but manage to shake her hand.

"Hello," I say, and it comes out all cracked and broken like a pubescent boy. When I look back at Santana her expression is a cross between knowing smirk and slightly confused. I can't remember the last time I felt so embarrassed or flustered, I can't believe I just did that.

"Okay, girls." Rachel breaks the awkward silence that's fallen over the three of us. "I'm going to go get us some coffee. Santana, why don't you sit here with Brittany and I'll be right back."

Santana just gives her a tight-lipped smile and nods as Rachel walks away. Neither of us moves or says anything for what feels like a really long time and eventually I have to turn away because I feel like my head is going to explode. I see Santana sit gingerly next to me out of the corner of my eye. I can smell her perfume now and it's so good, it makes me want to move closer to her.

We both look up at each other at the same time and smile awkwardly, then I drop my sandwich back in my lunch box because suddenly I'm not so hungry any more. That's when I notice Santana doesn't have any lunch.

"Did you forget to bring your lunch?" I ask and she snaps her eyes back to me. "You can have some of mine if you want, I'm not really hungry."

She smiles really big but with her mouth still closed and looks away. "No, thanks, I'm good. I'll eat at home."

Yes, her voice is definitely dark red crushed velvet.

"Okay," I reply as I put the lid back on the box and slip it into my purse.

I sit up straight again and start drumming my fingers on my thighs. I'm starting to regret putting my lunch away because I really want to have something to do with my hands. Maybe I could get my phone out and text somebody. Or I could call Sam, but that might be a little rude.

I'm probably making her super uncomfortable right now by not saying anything; she doesn't need that on her first day at a new job. I feel like such a jerk, but I really don't know what to say. I'm still a little embarrassed about the way I stared at her just now.

"I teach your sister." The sound of her voice startles me a little because I wasn't expecting her to talk.

"Huh?" I say dumbly.

"Your sister, Katie Taylor? She's in my class. She told me her big sister, Brittany, works at this school. I'm assuming that's you?" She's smiling at me again but I can tell she still feels uncomfortable.

Wait, of course. I can't believe I didn't think of it before. She's going to be teaching Katie. This is so awesome. Maybe Santana and I can become friends and she can give me updates on how Katie's doing in class and stuff. Whenever I used to ask the old teacher she would just say 'fine', and I always felt like I was annoying her by asking. And I would really like to know how Katie's doing with school and stuff.

"Oh, yeah. Well she's my half-sister actually. Hence the different last names." I smile back at her although I'm not sure why I even said that.

"Right." She nods. "I did wonder." She sucks her lips into her mouth and looks away again.

"Yeah," I mumble quietly and look down at my hands. God, what is _wrong_ with me? I'm usually pretty shy when I meet new people but this is just stupid. I want to say something to her, so bad, I don't want her to feel awkward.

"She sure thinks a lot of you, anyway."

I look back at her and she's looking at me again with a shy little smile on her face.

"Who?" What were we talking about again? Oh yeah, Katie.

"Katie," she replies. "She kept talking about her _awesome big sister, Brittany._ " She does that finger quote thing when she says 'awesome big sister' and finishes with a smile.

I know it's silly, but I actually feel like crying right now. Does Katie really think I'm awesome? Because I sure as hell think she's awesome. I know it's natural for little girls to look up to their big sisters, especially when there's such a huge age gap, I guess I just find the idea of anybody looking up to me a little surreal. Even if it's an eight-year-old. _Even_ if we're really close.

I was really worried when I first moved out of my Mom's house that Katie and I would lose that closeness. I still do worry sometimes. I wish I could be there for her more than I am, and I'm scared that one day she's just going to be grown-up and I'm going to be left wondering when it happened. It's so strange too, how we spend so much time in the same building yet I only actually spend about ten minutes a week with her if I added it up. I hate it, and I don't know how I can change it.

"Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

I suddenly realize I haven't said anything back yet. Santana's eyes keep flicking between different spots on my face, like she's trying to read me, and I can't work out if she looks more concerned or mad.

"Oh, no. Um." I clear my throat and try to think of what I should say. Do I tell her what I was thinking about? It seems a little personal to share with someone I just met. "Sorry, I just, my sister and I..." _Fuck_ , just say something normal. "I'm just really glad she thinks I'm awesome." I look up at her and her expression softens, she looks relieved.

"Yeah, well she seems like a good kid, anyway. She's smart." She smiles at me and this time it's not awkward. I think it's the nicest smile I've ever seen, it makes her face look warm and inviting and her eyes sparkle.

I have no idea what Rachel was talking about when she said Santana was a menace, or that she didn't smile. I've only known her for five minutes and I've seen her smile lots of times. And she's so sweet. She didn't have to say nice things about my sister; she could have just sat there quietly and waited for Rachel to come back.

I smile back at her and her smile turns into a grin as she looks down at her hands. I'm about to say something else to her, although I'm not sure what, when I hear Rachel calling my name. She wants me to help her carry the coffees.

We set them on the little table between the couch me and Santana are on and the extra chair I put out. Rachel takes a seat opposite me and starts talking to Santana, who I find myself staring at again as we drink our coffee. I decide I really like the way she looks when she talks.

"So, Santana," Rachel says between sips of coffee. "How's your first day going?" I see Santana roll her eyes. It's subtle, but I see it.

"Pretty good, I guess. Nothing's gone majorly wrong so far. My assistant's driving me crazy though, d'you think one of the other teachers will switch with me?" Her eyes flicker to me briefly as she says that and I feel my face flush again.

"Wait, you mean Emma?" I ask. What's wrong with Emma? She's always super nice to me.

"Yeah." Santana turns her attention to me. "Somebody should really tell her that _teaching assistant in an elementary school_ is probably not the best career choice if you're afraid of germs."

I breathe out a laugh. I guess she has a point.

"Actually," Rachel chimes in and Santana's face hardens as she turns away from me. She starts sipping at her coffee again. "Miss Pillsbury has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and it's not very nice to make fun of her."

I look at Rachel and I want to speak up because I'm pretty sure Santana wasn't making fun of anybody, but she isn't done.

"And I really think somebody in your position should appreciate how important tolerance is, especially when it comes to things people don't choose but would perhaps like to change about themselves if they could."

My mouth falls open; I can't believe she said that, especially after what she said to me this morning about keeping things to myself.

I close my mouth and look at Santana. To say she looks pissed is an understatement; her forehead is creased and her lips are pressed so tightly together, like if she opened her mouth bees would shoot out and attack Rachel. She doesn't open her mouth though; she swallows the bees back down and nods curtly.

"Thank you, Rachel, I'll bear that in mind," she retorts. And although her words are sharp and bitter-sounding I feel like not letting that whole swarm of bees loose on Rachel was a lot harder for her than she's making out.

Rachel opens her mouth to speak again and I close my eyes, inwardly cringing at what she might say next. But as if sensing Rachel's impending doom at the hands of Santana; Mr Clarkson, the fourth grade teacher, calls her name from the other side of the room. He wants her opinion on nurture bases or something and Rachel can't get over there fast enough. She loves giving opinions.

Santana and I sit in silence for a minute, or it could be ten, I'm not sure. When I look up at her she's still as a statue and she looks completely lost in her thoughts. I feel like I should say something, maybe apologize on Rachel's behalf, or reassure her that I won't tell anybody anything.

I reach over and tap her gently on the shoulder with my pointer finger. She flinches and jerks away and snaps her head round to look at me. She looks so mad and I snatch my hand back into my lap. Her face softens again when she looks at me but her body is still rigid.

"Um… I just wanted to say..." _What_? What do I want to say? "Uh, I won't like, tell anyone or anything." Her eyes go wide and her body stays stiff. "I mean like, I'm sorry about Rachel, she didn't mean to sound so harsh. You'll get used to it, she's actually super nice. She just wants to help." Her body seems to relax a little at that and she smiles at me.

"Doubtful, but I'll take your word for it." She winks and smiles at me and I get this tingly feeling in my tummy and the backs of my knees.

I want to talk to her more. I want to ask her questions and make her say more things because I think I could listen to her talk forever. I want to know about her. I want to know why she didn't smile at dinner with Rachel. I want to know why she decided to become a teacher and where she grew up and what her parents are like. And I really want to know what makes her smile, because if I could figure out what I did or said to make her smile at me the way she is now, I'd never stop.

I've always liked people; I like listening to them talk and finding out what makes them, them. Kind of like a jigsaw, getting little pieces of information and putting it all together to build a complete picture, because the picture is always unique and interesting and beautiful.

But it feels different with her.


	2. Secrets

I'm _so_ glad it's Friday. This week has been exhausting and I don't even know why; it hasn't really been different than any other week work-wise. All I know is that when my alarm goes off this morning; for the first time in a _long_ time, I hit the snooze button.

When I finally manage to tear myself out of bed the cool air of my apartment hits my skin like a bucket of ice-cold water and makes goose bumps break out all over my body. It makes me want to curl back up in my warm blankets and get that sleepy, dreamy, sunny feeling that I always feel right after I wake up back.

I'm sitting at my tiny kitchen table and drinking my third cup of coffee when I start to wonder when this happened. I used to have so much energy and I just don't know where it's gone. It's like it got sucked out of me at some point without me even noticing.

I guess this is just what happens when you keep secrets: eventually they start to weigh you down.

My brain is really starting to hurt now from all this thinking so I decide to finish getting ready. I've had enough coffee anyway; I don't think it's normal to be able to feel the pulse in your neck without actually touching it.

Ten minutes later I get a text from Tina telling me she's outside. That's another reason why I'm glad it's Friday; Tina doesn't have any classes on Friday mornings so she always gives me a ride to work. I love it when I don't have to take the bus. I wish I could afford to run my own car.

"Hey, girly!" she chirps as I hop in the passenger seat.

"Hey," I reply as I buckle myself in. She starts playing with the iPod she has plugged into her car stereo.

"What d'ya wanna listen to today?" she asks and looks up at me expectantly.

"Ummm, I don't mind, you chose," I say and nudge her with my elbow.

"Pearl Jam it is." She grins. The opening guitar riff from 'Even Flow' reverberates around the car as we pull away from the curb. Tina has awesome taste in music. She got me into all kinds of stuff when we were younger like The Pixies and The Smiths. I pretty much like all kinds of music but I have a soft spot for those bands because of her.

"So where are we going for coffee tomorrow? I'm getting kinda sick of the Lima Bean."

 _Crap._ I can't believe I forgot to tell her I can't go for coffee tomorrow. She's going to be so mad; she hates it when I cancel.

"Umm, actually. Can we make it Sunday? Sam wants me to hang out with him and Puck and Quinn tomorrow." I look down sheepishly and start tracing patterns over my pants with my pointer finger.

"What? You're blowing me off again? Let me guess, Sam asked you to cancel?" She doesn't look mad yet but I can tell we're heading that way. And how the hell did she know it was Sam's idea?

"I'm not blowing you off, we can hang out Sunday." I give her my best puppy dog eyes and hope she has a sense of humour about this. She looks briefly away from the road at my face and then rolls her eyes. _Good_ , she's not mad.

"I can't Sunday, I'm working."

I always forget she works on Sundays. I don't know where she gets her energy. She has college all week. "Right, I forgot. Don't you ever take a day off?"

"Yes. _Saturday_."

 _Right_. I can tell she's starting to get a little agitated now. "Okay, well, come hang out with us tomorrow then. You can bring Mike if you want. It'll be fun." I grin. That would actually be pretty cool. I hardly ever get to spend time with Tina and Sam together.

"No thanks, I have no interest in hanging out with you and Yoko," she says, keeping her eyes forward.

 _Yoko?_ Does she think Sam is Japanese? Or maybe Tina's Japanese; except I'm pretty sure she's Chinese.

"Okay," I say quietly. I hear her let out a heavy sigh beside me. I feel so bad, I love Tina and I hate making her upset. I wish I could just go for coffee with her tomorrow.

"Sorry," she says after a few seconds. I feel my eyebrows scrunch together.

"What for?" I ask. I look up at her but she's still looking at the road. She lets out another heavy breath.

"Never mind."

We sit in silence for a few minutes before we pause at some stop lights and Tina turns to look at me. I'm not looking at her but I can see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye. She's making me feel kind of awkward so I just look down and pick at my fingernails.

"Are you okay?" she asks. I turn my head towards her, she looks so worried and I feel awful. Is she really this sad that I can't go for coffee?

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" My eyebrows knit together again because I'm not sure why she's asking. She's the one who looks upset.

"I dunno. The last few times I've seen you, you've just seemed a little off. And you look like death warmed up. Is it Sam? Are things okay with you guys?"

I'm starting to panic a little now, have I really been that obvious? What else has she picked up on?

"Yeah, of course. Sam and I are fine." I smile at her and silently beg that she lets this go.

"Okay, you would tell me if something was wrong though, right? I mean, I know we don't hang out as much as we used to, but you're still my best friend. You can still talk to me about anything."

"Yeah, I know that," I reply softly and give her a small smile. Of course I know that, does she think I don't want to be her best friend anymore? That's silly; she'll always be my best friend.

She smiles back and reaches over to grab my hand. She squeezes really tight before letting go just as the light turns green.

/

My cheese sandwich tastes awful today and I can't quite put my finger on it, maybe I spread the butter too thin. I eventually give up trying to eat it; I put my lunch box back in my purse and grab the cup of coffee Rachel made me. She's sitting with her back to me and giving one of the other teachers a lecture, or what sounds like a lecture, I'm not really listening to the actual words.

This is how I've spent my last three lunch breaks; sitting in the teachers' lounge with a cup of coffee, watching everybody buzz and talk around me, and turning to look at the door every time I hear it open.

I haven't seen Santana since that lunch break on Tuesday when we first met. I was hoping to run into her in the teachers' lounge again, but no such luck so far. I wonder where she goes for lunch.

The door opens again and when I turn to look I see it's Emma that's just come in. I feel my heart flutter a little. Maybe Santana will be behind her, they do work together, but the little spark of hope is extinguished as the door slams shut directly behind her.

I let out a sigh and turn back around. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emma sit down on one of the other couches. She's not that far away, I could just go over and ask her where Santana is. Would that be weird?

 _Who am I kidding?_ Of course it would be weird, she'd think I was nuts, and she might tell Santana that I was asking after her and then she'd think I was nuts too.

And let's face it, I kind of am. I mean, I had one ten minute conversation with this girl and now I can't stop thinking about her. I don't think that's normal. I just want to see her again so badly. That feeling I got in my tummy whenever she smiled at me or I caught a waft of her perfume isn't something I've ever felt before. And it was so nice to feel something without _trying_ to feel it.

I sigh and shake my head. I _really_ need a distraction. Maybe I could just strike up a conversation with someone. I mean, they are my colleagues; I've talked to them and laughed with them plenty of times before. It's not like they're ignoring me on purpose or anything, they just know that I don't really talk much. If I started a conversation with one of them I know they'd happily talk to me.

But when I look around me they're all talking to people already; I can't just interrupt. Suddenly I feel very lonely in this room.

Just as that thought occurs to me the bell rings for the end of lunch so I don't have time to give it any more thought. Rachel shakes me out of my daze by prodding me in the back and gestures for me to follow her. I sigh heavily and trudge out of the room behind her, trying to shake this weird feeling that's come over me as we head back to class.

/

Lately I've been having trouble looking in the mirror. I do it once in the morning to put on my makeup and once in the evening to take if off again, and in between I try to avoid it entirely. I can't even explain why, really, it just seems easier.

This sort of becomes impossible, however, on Friday afternoons between three o`clock and four-thirty when I teach the dance club. The dance studio at this school is pretty small but it's still a real dance studio, complete with a mirror that takes up an entire wall. Taking this club also means I don't get to see Katie on Fridays, which kind of sucks.

I feel my heart thundering in my chest as I move and it has nothing to do with dancing. These steps are baby steps; I don't think any of these kids are all that interested in learning to dance anyway; this is pretty much just a free babysitting service so we usually spend half our time just goofing off.

By the end of the lesson I'm starting to feel super claustrophobic; my chest is tight and I feel like I'm burning up. This happened last week and the week before too, I know I'll be okay once I'm outside.

It's getting old though. I just feel so uncomfortable all the time, so aware of my own body. It's not a physical thing, I don't hate my body or anything, I know there's nothing wrong with it. It's more than that.

Once the kids have all left I tidy up the room a little and start packing up my things, stuffing my work clothes and my water bottle inside my duffle bag before slinging it over my shoulder. A figure moving in the doorway catches my eye suddenly and I let out a shriek and jump about half a foot in the air.

It's Santana.

She's giggling now and I try to smile back as I clutch my hand to my chest but I'm still recovering from my almost heart attack. She steps into the room and moves towards me. If it's possible my heart starts beating even faster.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she says as she approaches. She's still smiling when she puts her hand on my shoulder. I look down at it and she takes it back a little awkwardly. I can't believe she's here; I was beginning to think I'd dreamed her. I feel like my insides are turning into jello.

"That's okay; I just thought I was alone is all." I manage to smile back at her now.

"I was standing there a while actually; you've got some pretty sweet moves," she says through a crooked smile as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. I blush at that and look away from her face. How long was she watching?

"Thanks, I took lessons as a kid."

I start walking and she falls into step beside me as we make our way out of the room and along the hallway. "So how come you're still here so late?" I ask. "It's usually just me and the janitor by this time."

"Emma and I were changing some of the art displays in the classroom. It was either stay late today or come in early Monday. Like we don't have to be here early enough already." She rolls her eyes and smiles at me.

"So, Emma's growing on you, huh?" I grin at her. She rolls her eyes again; she sure does that a lot.

"No. She's still annoying."

"I think she's sweet, she gave me hand sanitizer once."

Santana snorts out a laugh. "Yeah. Annoying." She gives me a cute little smile that makes her dimples sink into her cheeks. I stop as we come to the point where we have to separate but Santana keeps on walking. "What are you doing?" she asks, stopping a little way in front of me and turning around.

"I have to go this way now." I point behind me with my thumb. "To the bus stop."

"Oh. You take the bus?" she asks, stepping back towards me. Something in her voice sounds happy that I take the bus which is confusing.

"Yeah, I'm gonna save up for a car as soon as I've saved up for all the other stuff I need to pay for."

She breathes out a laugh and shakes her head, then she grabs my elbow. "Come on," she says, pulling me along. "I'll give you a ride home."

I dig my heels into the ground and stop abruptly as soon as the words leave her mouth. "No, it's okay, you don't have to do that." But she grabs my elbow again.

"I know I don't have to, I want to. Come on, no arguing." For the second time since I've known her she winks at me, and for the second time it makes me go weak at the knees. I can't believe how nice she is; going out of her way like this just so I don't have to take the bus. She really is the sweetest girl ever.

I suddenly feel even worse about all the things I've been hearing in the teachers' lounge the last couple of days. I don't think a lot of the other teachers like her much because she doesn't eat lunch with the rest of us. They call her stuck up.

I don't say anything about it to them but I'm pretty sure she's just shy.

She unlocks her car and I climb into the passenger seat. Her car is really nice, it's black and it's some kind of sports car. It feels weird when we pull out of the parking lot; I'm not used to leaving this way.

"So where do you live?" Santana asks, glancing across at me.

"Um, five-seven-five Westbury Terrace. It's a big, red building." I smile back at her.

"Westbury Terrace? You're right around the corner from me. You know Salem Avenue?" She's grinning now and it makes me grin right back.

"Yeah, they have that awesome pizza place right on the corner." That's where Sam I always order our pizza from.

"Marcelo's, yeah. I haven't had a chance to check it out yet. Is it any good?"

"Yeah, me and Sam don't go anywhere else." I smile. All this pizza talk is making me hungry.

"Who's Sam?" She looks at me again and her face seems a little stiff. I hesitate for moment, I don't know why but I really don't want to answer. I kind of regret mentioning Sam at all.

"Oh, um, my boyfriend." It comes out way quieter than I intended. She bites her bottom lip and nods slowly, looking back at the road. We fall into an uncomfortable silence after that, well it's uncomfortable for me anyway. She might just be concentrating on driving. I try to think of something to say, I had so many things I wanted to ask and say to her earlier but right now I can't think of any of them. In the end I just blurt out the first thing that comes into my head.

"Where do you go at lunch?" Her brow furrows and I realize I'm probably going to have to elaborate.

"Huh?" she says.

"At work, I haven't seen you in the teachers' lounge since Tuesday." I see the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips after I say that.

"Yeah, I just stay in my classroom."

"Oh, how come?" I'm starting to feel a little nosey asking all these questions but I just want to find out as much as I can about her. She sighs and I feel like maybe I overstepped. "You don't have to answer," I quickly tell her.

"No, it's okay. I just...I guess I'm not much of a people person." Her brow is still furrowed and the tiny smile I saw forming earlier is well and truly gone now. I was right, she's just super shy. Why do people never see things like that?

I breathe out an, "Oh," and look down at my hands. After another minute or so of silence I decide I should speak again. I want her to know she doesn't have to be shy.

"You could sit with me, in the teachers' lounge… if you wanted. I'm sure Rachel wouldn't mind, she usually talks to other people when we're in there anyway. So, like, if you ever wanted to try again, eating with everyone else, even though you don't bring lunch. You can sit with me." My voice kind of trailed off at the end and I feel a little embarrassed. I probably sound so lame. I look down and fiddle with the hem of my top.

"That's really sweet of you." I look at her and she's smiling properly again now. "And if I were to sit with anyone at lunch, believe me, it would be you. But I'm okay staying in the classroom." She looks at me quickly and her smile gets bigger. "Thanks for the offer though."

"No problem." I smile back and a few silent moments pass between us.

"So, you got any plans for the weekend?" asks Santana.

"Um." I look upwards and think for a moment. "Maybe go out tonight. And, just hanging out with a couple friends at my apartment tomorrow. I'm not sure about Sunday. What about you?"

She snorts out a laugh. "Spend the weekend in my apartment with my cat probably, maybe do some grocery shopping." She smiles as she says it but it's kind of a sickly smile. I don't like it.

"What, you're not gonna do anything?" I ask with my brow furrowed.

"No. I only moved back here a couple months ago. I didn't really stay in touch with any of my friends from here after high school and my parents live Florida now. The only person I really know here is Kurt. Do you know Kurt? He's friends with Rachel." Her words are rushed, almost like she's panicking and it makes me feel like I shouldn't have said anything.

"Yeah I met him once, he's funny," I say. I feel kind of bad that she's not going to be doing anything this weekend. That must be super boring.

"Yeah, he's awesome. I don't know where I'd be without Kurt." We both smile.

"What do you mean?" I ask. She looks at me and waves her hand dismissively.

"Long story, don't worry." She smiles again.

"Okay." I nod and suck my lips into my mouth. I want to know more but I've been nosey enough and I don't want to make her uncomfortable again. "Hey!" I squawk. It comes out way louder than I mean to. I see Santana flinch out of the corner of my eye and I feel heat creeping up my cheeks. "Sorry," I say, quieter. "I just had an idea." She giggles at that.

"Okay, what kind of idea?" she asks, and her smile is so warm.

"You should come hang out tomorrow, at my apartment. We're just gonna drink some beer and watch football, maybe order take-out, it'll be fun." I know I seem like an over-eager dork but I don't care. This is the best idea ever. Or maybe not. Her face falls and she looks like that's the last thing she expected me to say.

"Oh, um...I don't know, Britt, I-" I interrupt because she looks really awkward.

"I know it's scary hanging out with new people, but I'll be there and I know you don't really know me yet but I promise it'll be fun. I'd really like you to come. Please." I drag out the last word and grin at her. I see her blush a little and I can tell she's trying not to smile.

"Okay." She sighs. "What time?"

"Yes!" I pump my fist in the air. "Okay, I'm not sure yet, how about I get your number when we stop, and I'll text you the details?"

"Okay. I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," she mumbles. She rolls her eyes again but she's smiling.

"It'll be fun, I promise." I'm kind of worried about what Sam will say when I tell him I invited somebody else, but I'm way too excited to let that bother me right now. I'll think about it tomorrow.

When we pull up outside my building we swap phone numbers. I write my number on her hand even though I have a note pad in my purse, but I kind of just wanted an excuse to touch her; and I really like the feeling I get when I wrap my fingers around hers to hold her hand steady. She gives me a business card with her number on it and I briefly wonder why an elementary school teacher would have business cards.

I step out of her car and onto the sidewalk feeling lighter than I have in weeks. She winds down the window and I lean down to look in at her.

"Thank you for the ride," I say.

"Don't mention it. So, I'll see you tomorrow?" She still looks apprehensive and I want to get away quickly before she can change her mind.

"Yep, it's gonna be awesome, you won't regret your decision." I grin.

She smirks and looks away, I can almost see her blush starting to show again. "I'm sure I won't," she mumbles.

"Goodbye." I step back from the car and wave.

"Bye, Brittany," she calls as the window starts going back up.

I smile to myself as I watch her drive away.


	3. Fifth Wheel

**Six and a half years ago...**

"Sam Evans is staring at you." Tina practically yells it into my left ear but I barely hear her over the blaring music. I look up and past the throng of gyrating bodies, red cups in hand and sweat illuminating their skin. Usually I'd be dancing too, but I don't want to leave Tina.

Sure enough, on the other side of Puck's living room surrounded by his football buddies is Sam, his eyes fixed firmly on me. He smiles when I look at him so I smile back shyly and avert my gaze, focusing instead on the half empty cup of whatever that I'm holding in my lap. I haven't answered Tina yet, I'm not really sure if she was looking for an answer so I just shrug. She leans back into me. "So when are you guys going to stop eye-sexing each other and actually go out on a date?" I look at her and she's smirking now.

"He hasn't actually asked me out yet. It's not like I can ask him." I would ask him, if it were socially acceptable. He's super sweet and funny; one time he made me laugh so hard chocolate milk came out of my nose. He's definitely a step up from most of the meat-head jocks at our school.

"Well I'm sure he will, he's always asking me stuff about you," she slurs.

"Wait, you guys talk?"

"No, not really. He just comes over to me sometimes at school and asks me stuff about you. He's totally into you." She winks at me, except it's really more of a crooked blink, before turning around. Tina's boyfriend, Artie, has just rolled up beside the couch we're sitting on. He says something to her which I don't hear and hands her a drink.

"Hey, Brittany!" A voice booms into my other ear. It startles me a little and I whip my head to the right. Noah Puckerman is crouching with his arms folded over the side of the couch and his chin resting on top of them. His face feels way too close to mine. _Why is he looking at me like that?_ I twist my body to face him and fold my leg underneath me.

"Hey, Puck." I smile.

"So, when are you and my boy, Sam, gonna get it together? This whole love-sick puppy thing he's been doing lately is really not good for his image." He's smiling so I know he's teasing.

"He hasn't asked me out." I shrug and smile again, leaning the side of my head against the back of the couch.

"What? That fuckin' pussy. Go tell him to grow some balls and ask you on a date." He's shaking his head but the dopey smile is still there.

"Wouldn't it be nicer if I just asked _him_ out on a date?" I don't think telling him to grow balls will make him like me very much.

"I guess." He shrugs. "Don't worry, he'll ask you. I'll make sure of it. And if he doesn't, well, you're always welcome to take a ride on the Puckasaurus." He winks. I giggle and shake my head just as Puck's smirk turns into a scowl. He looks past my head. "Hey!" he bellows at the top of his voice and I flinch a little. "What the hell are you two losers doing at my party?" I turn my head, confused, to find Tina and Artie looking wide-eyed at me.

"I invited them," I tell Puck, turning back to face him, "and they're not losers." I frown. He snorts and then stands up and looks down at me.

"You know, you're gonna have to pick a side someday, Britt." And with that, he turns and disappears back into the crowd. I turn back to Tina and Artie who are both looking down at their drinks. I feel terrible now but I have no idea what to say.

"Sorry, guys!" I yell. My words are starting to blur together. "He didn't mean it."

"Yeah, he did," Tina replies. She tells me she doesn't care because Puck's a jerk but her voice and her face say otherwise. I lean into Tina's right ear.

"I'm going to pee," I yell. She smiles and nods as I hand her my drink. It takes a few attempts to get up from the couch. It's one of those couches that you really sink into, I'm pretty sure they were just invented to annoy drunk people. I wobble a little as I stand and Tina steadies me with her hand on the small of my back.

"Hey, you want me to go with you?" she asks.

"No, it's okay. I'll be right back." I wave over my shoulder as I make my way through the maze of people. Random guys keep yelling stuff and pushing themselves against me as I walk by, but I can't really concentrate on what they're trying to say. My vision is starting to blur around the edges a little and the walls feel like they're closing in on me as I walk up the stairs.

When I get to the bathroom I see there's one other person waiting outside the door.

"Hey, Lucy!" I say a little too loud, still adjusting to not having to yell over the music.

"Hey, Britt," she giggles. I stop and stand against the wall opposite her. I watch her as she leans back against the wall and runs her fingers through her short hair. Her shirt rides up a little as her back arches and the few inches of skin above the waistband on her jeans becomes exposed. She's so skinny, I can see her hip bones jutting out, she must not eat much.

Lucy is one of Tina's art club friends. Well, I guess she's my friend too. She's super cool and really good at drawing, one time at lunch she drew this picture of me and Tina with our arms around each other's shoulders. It was really good; Tina has it up on her bedroom wall.

I feel kind of bad for her because people at school always make fun of her for being a lesbian. I've seen some awful things written about her in the bathroom stalls at school, but she always just shrugs it off; says it won't matter once she's graduated and living in New York or San Francisco. I'd never show my face at school again if it were me.

Some people think it's weird that I'm a cheerleader and I hang out with the art guys. I think they expect me to hang out with the other cheerleaders and sometimes I do, but they always make fun of people and make me feel like I'm not skinny or pretty enough. And sometimes when they're talking about stuff I don't really understand what they're saying. It's like they're speaking another language or something.

I feel like that with the art guys too sometimes, but it's a prettier, less scary language.

" _Finally_." Lucy snaps me out of my daze. I see some tall guy from the baseball team stumble out of the bathroom then Lucy darts inside and slams the door shut.

I turn so that I'm leaning against the wall with my shoulder and start tracing patterns with my pointer finger over the bumps and dents in the paint. She's only in there for a couple of minutes, much quicker than the baseball guy. "All yours," she mutters as she steps out.

It really hits me how drunk I actually am while I'm peeing. I can't help slumping against the wall and it takes me three attempts to pull my shorts back up when I'm finished.

When I leave the bathroom I'm surprised to see Lucy's still in the hallway. She's leaning against the wall across from me with her arms folded.

"Did you need to go again already?" I ask. She smiles and walks towards me.

"No, I was waiting for you," she replies.

"Oh, how come?"

She doesn't answer. She just grabs me by the hand and starts leading me down the hall. I stumble along behind her. I have no idea where she's taking me, I'm pretty sure the stairs are the other way.

"Where are we going?"

She doesn't answer again, just leads me into a bedroom. It's dark in here but I can just make out a double bed pushed up against the far wall. This must be Puck's parents' room. I hear her shut the door and twist the lock behind us, I turn around to ask what she's doing but before any words can come out I feel her lips on mine.

I'm a little startled at first and it takes me a couple of seconds to catch up with her, but I don't stop her. I know I should, but in all honesty I kind of like it. I put my hands her on her shoulders to steady myself. This is so awesome, her lips are really soft and she tastes like Peach Schnapps.

The kiss is slow and gentle, like she's giving me a chance to get used to it. Then she opens her mouth a little wider and I feel her tongue lick the back of my teeth. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I sigh into her mouth. I feel her slip her hands up my tank top and grip the bare skin of my waist and it makes me dig my fingers into her shoulders and press my body a little harder against hers. We're kissing faster now and every time she pushes her tongue against mine it tingles low in my belly.

She begins slowly pushing me backwards across the room; I stop her and manage to pull my lips away from hers with a wet smacking sound. We're both panting now and my eyes are wide, I probably look like a spooked deer.

"What?" she asks, breathless.

"How did you know?" I whisper. I think I see her smile through the dark.

"I've seen the way you look at your cheerleader friends when you guys are all in uniform." She shrugs.

Usually hearing that would probably have made me panic like hell, but right now I think I'm too drunk and dazed to care.

She pulls away and walks past me and I turn and watch her kick her shoes off and drop down onto the bed, shuffling back so that her head is resting on the pillows. She reaches her hand out towards me so I slip my shoes off too and follow her, kneeling down on the mattress.

As soon as I'm close enough she puts her hand around the back of my neck and pulls me down and top of her. We start kissing again right away and this time it's deep and hard and fast. Our tongues keep pushing against each other, like I want to put my tongue in her mouth and she wants to put hers in mine but we're too evenly matched for either of us to actually win. I move my legs so I'm straddling her and use my arms on either side of her head to hold myself up. As soon as I open my legs like that I can feel how wet my panties are and how sensitive I am down there. I almost let out a whimper.

The hand she has on the back of my neck keeps clawing at my skin now and it kind of feels nice and painful at the same time. Her other hand is under my tank top, stroking up and down my back. I want to touch her too; I want to know what her skin feels like, if it's different from a boy's, because her lips sure feel different from a boy's, but I can't quite bring myself to do it.

She moves her hand from the back of my neck to the hem of my top and I feel both of her hands sliding up my back as she lifts it. I break away from her and lift my body a little so that she can she can pull it up over my head. The way she does it is kind of forceful and I hear the material of my top stretch as she pulls it off and throws it on the floor. I dive straight back down to her mouth and start kissing her again.

Her right hand is gripping at the back of my thigh now, just below my shorts and her left hand is tangled through my hair at the back of my head, pulling me closer to her. My skin feels so hot and I can feel the blood pounding in my ears. There's a tickly, tingly feeling that starts in my tummy and keeps rippling out in waves through the rest of my body that makes me have to tense my tummy and curl my toes. Sometimes when I'm doing stuff with boys I get that feeling but it's nothing like this. I keep pushing my hips hard against hers without really meaning to. It makes my kissing falter a little and I gasp into her mouth.

Then I feel her hands both grip really hard at my waist and she flips us. She doesn't straddle my hips like I did to her, she just straddles my right leg and starts kissing me again, fast and frantic. As she does it she pushes her right leg up into me, it feels so good and I whimper into her mouth. She does it again and again and I can't help the way my body keeps pushing up into hers.

I want her to feel good too, so I try and do what she's doing. I push my thigh against the place in between her legs. She lets out a stifled moan and it sounds so hot, it makes the aching in between my legs even worse. I do it again and she pulls her lips away from my mouth and starts sucking at my neck so I tilt my head back so that she has more room. I'm glad she's kissing my neck now because it was getting a little hard to breathe and I can think a little more clearly now that her lips aren't on mine; I can focus on how hot my face feels and how hard my heart is beating. I can feel hers too, like a hummingbird inside her chest.

Then she sits up so that she's on her knees and starts unbuttoning my shorts. I don't know what to think of that; I hadn't meant to let it get this far. But before I get a chance to really process it her lips are back on mine and it's softer and slower now. She parts my lips with her tongue, but instead of shoving it down my throat she just uses it to stroke my tongue before pulling it out again. I'm starting to feel a little calmer, her kisses are kind of hypnotizing me, I use both of my hands to cup her cheeks and I hold her bottom lip between mine for a moment before opening my mouth and flicking my tongue out to meet hers halfway.

Suddenly I feel her hand start snaking its way down my unbuttoned shorts and I feel my blood freeze. My heart starts rattling violently inside my ribcage and every muscle in my body goes stiff. I grab her wrist and still her hand, completely seized by panic.

"I-I can't," I manage to stutter out against her lips. My words sound frantic and breathless. Everything feels like it's spinning; never before have my emotions done such a complete one-eighty so fast. It's kind of a shocking. She pulls back and looks at me.

"What, why?" she asks, incredulous.

"I… I don't know, I can't." I don't know why this is happening; I can feel tears stinging the back of my eyes. I want her, my body is practically screaming for her to touch me. _Why can't I just let her_?

"Okay… well, why don't you just do it to me instead?" she whispers into my ear and starts kissing my neck again. Is she kidding? That's just as scary. I can feel my body starting to tremble and my chest feels super tight.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't." I want to explain it to her but the words won't come out. I don't even know what I'd say. I don't know why the thought of doing this is scaring me so much, maybe I'm just not ready. I don't really know her that well, and we're both drunk, this isn't how I pictured my first time with a girl. I wanted it to be special. Plus I don't even know how to touch a girl, I always figured I'd get a chance to Google it beforehand, but this kind of happened out of the blue.

"Sure you can, just do what you do to yourself." Her breath feels so hot in my ear. I really wish she wasn't on top of me; it's making it super hard to breathe. I want to push her away. I want to push the whole world away so that I can just think for a minute.

"No, we have to stop. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done this." I feel her let out a heavy sigh in my ear, then she pushes herself up off me really fast.

"Tease," she mutters as she rolls away and sits on the edge of the bed. I sit up and lean back on my hands. The tears that were stinging my eyes before start falling now. I feel awful, I know I shouldn't have led her on but I thought I wanted it. My body _did_ want it; maybe I shouldn't have stopped her.

"I'm really sorry; I've just never done this before." My voice sounds so choked and pathetic.

"Whatever." She pushes herself up off of the bed and I can just about make out her body bending down to grab her shoes and then walking across the room holding them. She unlocks the door and turns around. "You know what, Brittany? You're a coward."

I start full on sobbing as she opens the door. I feel even worse because now all I can think about is who she's going to tell. She seems mad enough to do that, just to get back at me, and I feel super selfish for even thinking that right now.

"Wait!" I choke out before she can leave the room; she turns to face me, silhouetted by the light in the hallway. "You won't tell anybody, will you?" She huffs, turns around and slams the door without answering.

I sit there for a few minutes and try to compose myself. I can't make sense of any of the things I'm feeling right now, they all seem to contradict each other.

I force myself to get up off the bed and button up my shorts, then I kneel down on the floor, trying to feel around for my top - it's so dark. I stumble across my shoes first so I scoot back on my butt and slip them on. Then I fumble around in the dark for my top again. I keep grabbing the corner of the comforter which is hanging half off the bed, and each time I get a little more frustrated that it isn't my top. Once I finally find it I pull it over my head and slump down with my back against the bedframe. My breathing is so fast and shallow, maybe I should breathe into a paper bag like they do in the movies. It takes a few minutes for the tears finally stop and I struggle to my feet, wobbling a little and suddenly remembering how drunk I am.

There's a whole line of people outside the bathroom now and they all stare at me as I walk past. I feel my ears get hot. Did they see Lucy come out of the bedroom before me? Do they know what we just did? I look down at my feet and walk past them as fast as my wobbly legs will allow.

A wall of sound hits me as soon as I walk through the living room door. I don't bother trying to weave in and out of the crowd this time, I just push through them. When I get to the couch Tina and Artie are still there. I feel relief wash over me; I was a worried I'd been gone so long they might have left without me.

"Hey!" Tina shouts as soon as she spots me. "We were about to send a search party." Her face falls then and she stands up and puts her hands on my shoulders. "Britt, what happened? You've been crying." Her worry lines sink into her forehead.

"I'm fine. Can we go?" I try to make my voice sound as even as possible but it still comes out shaky.

"You're not fine. What's wrong?"

 _God, please let this go_. I can feel my panic boiling over into something else, guilt or regret maybe?

"I'm fine, I promise. Please, I just wanna go home, okay?" I look her right in the eye and she nods and lets out a heavy breath.

"Okay, let's go."

/

**Present day…**

"Britt? Britt!" Sam's voice sounds like it's coming from the other end of a tunnel. I feel like someone's cracked my head open with a mallet and there's something digging in my back. I open my eyes a sliver and immediately a stream of sunlight from the window tries to burn them out of their sockets. I screw them shut again and slap my hand to my forehead.

"Oww," I groan.

"Sorry, babe. I didn't wanna wake you but I seriously can't feel my arm anymore, can you sit up?" His voice is coming through a little clearer now. He sounds like he swallowed a frog.

"Your arm?" I croak out. I must have swallowed a frog too.

"Yeah, you're lying on it."

I take my hand away from my face and sit up; he wiggles his arm free as soon as my body leaves the mattress. Turns out it's the thing that was digging in my back. I open my eyes again but keep them squinted and turn my head to look at Sam. He's looking back at me through squinted eyes too, they look all red and puffy and he's still fully clothed and on top of the covers. He's smiling at me and wringing his hand around his wrist like he just got handcuffs taken off.

"Hey," I say. God, I sound like Joan Rivers right after she's finished her morning cigar.

"Hey," he chuckles and reaches his hand out to smooth down my hair. "Your hair looks like a bird's nest."

I smile and grab his hand. "Well you look how I feel," I say. "God, how much did we drink last night?" I start massaging my temple with my free hand.

"A lot. Mike kept buying rounds of tequila shots. That dude sure likes to splash his cash around. Hey," he looks at me like he's just noticed something. "Aren't you cold?"

I look down at myself. All I'm wearing is my underwear and I do suddenly feel pretty cold, like my body noticed I was half naked at the same time as my brain. I cross my legs and fold my arms over my stomach so I feel less exposed, then look down at the floor and see my dress and shoes from last night screwed up in a pile before turning back to Sam.

"A little. And he wasn't splashing his cash he was celebrating." I got a text from Tina after I got home yesterday asking me to come out to a club with her and Mike. His Dad owns some big, fancy-pants company and he made Mike an executive or something. He seemed pretty happy anyway and so did Tina. They were waiting for Mike to get promoted so they could move in together. I've never seen her smile so much, it was awesome. It took a while but I eventually convinced Sam to come out with us, it felt really good to blow off some steam, and it got me back in Tina's good graces after cancelling on her.

"True, lucky bastard. I wish my Daddy could just give me an awesome job that pays ridiculous amounts of money for sitting on my ass all day."

I know Sam is having a hard time with being unemployed so I let that go. "Green doesn't suit you, Sam." I wink. He rolls his eyes and smiles again.

"Come on, we should get up, it's almost twelve. Puck and Quinn are gonna be here in a few hours and we still need to go get beer and snacks."

 _Crap._ I totally forgot about that. I still haven't told Sam I invited Santana. I should have done it last night when we were drunk.

"Oh, about that, I hope you don't mind but I invited someone else." I look down at my hands.

"What? Who?" Crap, he sounds mad.

"Just this new girl at work. She just moved back here and doesn't know many people so I thought I'd invite her to hang out with us." I chance a look at his face but he's not looking at me. He doesn't look mad though. That's good.

"Oh, okay. Well, don't you think she's gonna feel like kind of a fifth wheel, hanging out with two couples?"

I didn't really think of that. I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable. But then, Puck used to hang out with Sam and I all the time before he started dating Quinn, and he never felt uncomfortable. No, I'm sure it'll be okay. "No, we're all friends, it'll be fine." I smile up at him. He shrugs, still not looking at me.

"Okay," he says, and shuffles off the bed. Once he's standing he looks at me. "Did you wanna shower first or shall I?"

"Do you mind if I go first? I feel really icky," I say and jump up off the bed. I immediately regret moving so fast because the room starts spinning. I must look as unsteady as I feel because Sam is at my side with his arms wrapped around me, quick as a flash.

"You okay, babe?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just got a little head rush." I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut.

"All right, you go hop in the shower and I'll have some coffee and an Advil ready when you get out, okay?" I feel him kiss the top of my head before letting go of me. I smile and open my eyes just as he exits through the privacy curtain that separates my bed from the rest of the room.

"Oh, Sam?" I call out as I start grabbing clothes from my dresser.

"Yeah?"

"Can you feed Lord Tubbington? I forgot to do it last night."

"Sure."

I have the best boyfriend ever.

/

"No! Pass. Pass! PASS!" Sam and Puck scream in unison at the TV screen. I don't understand why they're getting so worked up over this game; Sam said it was just an exhibition or something. I guess it's a guy thing. Puck and Quinn are sitting on the couch, well Quinn is sitting on it, Puck is bouncing up and down on the edge of it. Sam and I are sharing the armchair. I put an extra chair from the kitchen out for Santana to sit on when she gets here.

I texted her after Sam and I got back from the store, telling her my apartment number and what time to come over. She texted back saying she'd be a little late and asked if she should bring anything. Sam told me to tell her to bring beer but I just told her to bring herself. Now I'm sitting here chewing the crap out of my nails, waiting for her to get here, while everybody else enjoys the football. That's not true actually; Quinn looks just as bored as I would be if I weren't so excited.

"So, who's this friend you said's gonna be joining us?" Puck turns to me and asks right after the whistle is blown for half time.

"She's just this new teacher at work," I reply. "My sister's in her class so I'd like get on good terms with her." That is half true; I do want to be friends with whoever is teaching Katie. The fact that it's Santana is just a bonus.

There's a knock at the door right after I stop talking and I jump up so fast I get a little lightheaded. "Oh, that's probably her," I say quietly, trying not to sound too eager.

My heart thuds louder with each step I take towards the front door, and when I open it I think for a second that it's going to completely burst through my chest. Santana looks so beautiful. At work she's always wearing button down shirts and pencil skirts and stuff, which of course there's nothing wrong with, but it kind of makes her look cold. Only her eyes give her away at work. But now she's wearing a tight V-neck t-shirt, skinny jeans and pumps, her hair is in loose curls and her make-up is more subtle than usual. She looks natural and relaxed and just… perfect.

"Hi?" she says after a few seconds. I realize I've been staring at her and my face burns red. She's smirking at me again, it's that same look she gave me the first time we met; like she knows exactly what I'm thinking, and it sort of terrifies and excites me at the same time.

"H-hi. Um, come on in." I give her a nervous smile and step aside.

"Thanks." She smiles back and once she's in I shut the door behind us.

"Santana?"

I whip my head around so fast when I hear that and realize that Santana has frozen right behind me.

"Quinn?" She says; and the tone in her voice is a complete puzzle.

Quinn is standing now and Puck and Sam are looking between her and Santana, mouths open and eyebrows knitted together. What the hell is going on? How does Quinn know her name? I'm pretty sure I didn't tell her. And I definitely didn't tell Santana about Quinn.

"Do you two know each other?" I ask.

"We were friends in high school," says Quinn from across the room. The look on her face gives me goose bumps, and not the good kind. I don't really know what kind, just that they're not good.

"Kind of playing it fast and loose with the word _friends_ there, Fabray," replies Santana. She turns her head to face me. "But yeah, we went to high school together." She says it quieter, so only I can hear her.

"Whatever," Quinn huffs from across the room and drops back down onto the couch. The room feels super hot all of a sudden.

"Um, here... let me take that." I gesture towards the jacket hanging over Santana's arm. Maybe if I act like everything is normal everybody will start feeling more comfortable.

"Oh, thanks." She hands it to me and I hang it on a hook.

"This is your seat," I walk past her and point towards the wooden dining chair I put out next to mine and Sam's armchair. "Sorry, if you get uncomfortable me and Sam will switch with you." I turn my head and smile. She breathes out a laugh and looks at the floor as she sits down.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she mumbles. Cute. I knew she was just shy.

"This is my boyfriend, Sam." He leans over and shakes her hand, then I point at Puck. "And that's our friend, Puck." He salutes her. Dork. "He's Quinn's boyfriend." I say that last part quietly because I really don't want to make either of them uncomfortable again. Or any _more_ uncomfortable anyway. "I'll go get you a beer." I spin on my heels and head towards the kitchen.

/

"Dude, we suck!" Sam groans.

"I know, right," replies Puck. "I'm totally switching to the Bengals next Season."

"I'm right behind you," Chuckles Sam. He leans into me and hands me his empty Chinese food carton. "Could you put that on the coffee table for me, babe?"

"Sure," I reply. He's sitting on the arm of the chair and I'm on the actual seat so it's easier for me to reach. I squeeze it the on the table amongst all the other empty cartons and beer bottles and sit back. Sam kisses the top of my head and starts absentmindedly stroking my hair.

"Aww, I did that!" Puck says a little too loudly, I look up at him. He's facing Santana but gesturing between me and Sam.

"Did what?" Asks Santana, she doesn't sound amused.

"Those two, back in high school, they were both too shy to talk to each other, so the Puckster had to step in and work his magic." He puts his arm around Quinn's shoulders with a dopey grin on his face. She rolls her eyes but I can see the little smile tugging at her lips. "And now look at 'em, six years later and they're still all loved up." He winks at Sam who snorts out a laugh.

"Yeah, what would we have done without you, Puckerman? Seriously, how can we ever repay you?" He drones sarcastically.

"Just name your first born child after me and we'll call it even." Sam and Puck giggle and turn their attention back to the TV where some guy is talking about the game 'our' team just lost. If there's anything more boring than watching football it's got to be watching someone talk about it.

"I'm gonna go make some tea, who wants some?"

Quinn raises her hand sleepily. She's resting her head on Puck's chest with her eyes closed and she doesn't even open them to put her hand up.

"I'll stick with beer, thanks," says Sam.

"Me too," echoes Puck.

I don't even wait for Santana to answer, I just tap her shoulder as I walk past and gesture for her to follow me. Things didn't stay awkward before, once the game started up again and our food got delivered everyone was kind of distracted. Sam and Puck were pretty engrossed in the game, and I managed to have conversations with both Santana and Quinn. They didn't talk to each other, and I didn't talk about the fact that they knew each other, but it wasn't awkward. Santana and Puck even spoke a little; Puck studied architecture at college and it turns out the building that Santana lives in is really interesting to architects. Who knew? Still, I figured she might want a little time-out.

"Why do you have a picture of an obese cat on your refrigerator?" Santana asks as I fill up a kettle with water. I put it on the stove and turn back to her, leaning my butt against the kitchen table.

"Oh, that's Lord Tubbington, my cat. I got him when I was really little, he died a couple years ago."

"Oh, sorry to hear that. Heart attack?" She leans against the counter opposite me and raises her eyebrows.

"No, he just died; I don't know what of. Old age, I guess." I shrug. "I have a goldfish now; Lord Tubbington the Second, it's an homage."

She smiles at me the same way you would smile at a little kid if they gave you a homemade birthday card. "An homage?"

"Yeah, well, Lord Tubbington loved fish, so…" I shrug again.

She lets out a sweet little giggle. "I see."

I nod and look down at my feet. I figure it's best because I keep getting distracted by her lips when I look at her face.

"So, how long have you been friends with Quinn?" she asks.

I look up again because I'm a little surprised she brought that up. When I see her face, she sort of looks surprised too.

"Um, a couple years I think. Since she and Puck started dating." I smile.

She mouths a silent 'Oh' and looks down at her feet. I'm not sure what to say, it seems like she kind of doesn't like Quinn, but then Quinn thought they were friends, so maybe they just had a silly fight.

"I'm not sure if we're really friends, I mean, we go shopping together sometimes, but we mostly just hang out because she's with Puck. Not that I don't like her or anything, she's always super sweet to me, but, sometimes it's a little awkward. I never know what she's thinking."

She moves her eyes up to look at me. "What she's thinking?"

"Yeah, like…" I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, I just wanted her to know she can not like Quinn if she wants. Even though I'd rather everybody liked each other, I understand that they can't always. "I don't know, she's just hard to be around sometimes, because I can never tell how she's going to react to anything, so I end up just not saying very much to make sure I don't annoy her."

"Yeah," she says softly. "Well, you sure know how to pick friends. First Rachel, now Quinn." She rolls her eyes and smiles. I smile back.

"I didn't really pick Rachel, we were put together. And I like her anyway, she's nice."

"She's _awful_. Seriously, Brittany, I've hated a _lot_ of people, but I don't think I've ever hated anybody so much, so fast."

"Just give her a chance, I know she can seem a little bossy sometimes, but it's just because she cares. She just really wants to be helpful and needed you know. I think she sees helping people and giving them advice as like, her calling or something." I shrug and Santana grimaces.

"Her calling? I'm pretty sure her calling is to mate with a human male and start the apocalypse, and it's a shame she's so hideously unattractive because this planet could really do with being put out of its misery."

I am _so_ glad I'm not still drinking beer because I definitely would have snorted it out of my nose at that. Did she just think of that on the spot? "Well, if that were true," I giggle, "the world would have ended a long time ago. She has a fiancé."

"Ugh, if you're talking about that human-dugong half breed she brought to dinner last week, he doesn't count." She's smiling now, and I know she's only kidding because nobody could come up with insults that ridiculous and actually be serious.

The water finishes boiling so I start making three cups of tea, one for me, one for Quinn, and one for Santana.

"You did want tea, right?" I ask, even though I've already started making her some.

"Yeah, sure. Um, Britt?" She sounds all timid and nervous suddenly and I smile at her because I think that's the first time she's shortened my name like that. I like it.

"Yeah?"

"If you're not busy, I was just wondering, did you and Sam want to come over for lunch tomorrow? I mean, you don't have to or anything, I know it's short notice, just it was really nice of you to invite me over today so I wanted to return the favor…" She looks down at the floor and starts scuffing her foot back and forth across the tiles.

I love it when people try to justify doing something nice, I'll never understand why they think they have to, but I like it when they do, I think it's adorable. And it's especially adorable on her.

"That sounds great, but Sam always spends all day at the gym on Sundays. I think he thinks if he hangs around there enough they might give him a job," I tell her. She scrunches her eyebrows up.

"Right… well, you could just come by yourself if you wanted? Or we can wait 'til Sam's free. Whatever you want."

I grin like an idiot. "That sounds awesome." And it does. A whole lunch with just me and her, I can't believe she's actually suggesting this. There's a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that makes me think maybe this is a little weird, but it's just lunch, right? And despite all the thoughts I've been having about her I really do just want to be her friend. I like the way I feel when I'm around her and I really want to get to know her better.

"Great, okay, well I'll text you in the morning and we'll figure something out." She gives me a little smile and it makes me feel so warm, like I've been wrapped up in an electric blanket. All toasty and safe. I nod and smile back at her.

"Tea's done."

/

Me and Sam both slump down on the couch and take in the mess in front of us. Chinese food cartons and beer bottles and empty pretzel bags litter the coffee table. Sam lets out a puff of air beside me. "Did you wanna clean this up tonight or tomorrow?" he asks.

"Tomorrow."

"Good call." He chuckles. "So, Santana seems cool, d'ya think you'll bring her next time?"

I smile and lean my head on his shoulder. "Yeah, she is. And I'm not sure, maybe? I mean, she doesn't really know anyone here. How weird was _that_ that her and Quinn know each other though?"

"I know I thought they were gonna start scratching each other's eyes out when she first walked in."

I giggle at that, then we sit in silence for a few seconds.

"Right." I let out a heavy breath. "I'm gonna get ready for bed," I say, and use Sam's knee to push myself up off the couch.

"'Kay, I'll be in in a minute."

"Okay."

After I've brushed my teeth and taken my makeup off and changed into some fresh pajamas I collapse into bed. I roll over onto my side, pull the covers right up to my chin and close my eyes. I can hear Sam moving around in the bathroom and I find it kind of soothing. It gets lonely being here on my own all week, I like having him here.

I feel the bed dip and the covers move a little, then I feel Sam pressed up against my back, he leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Britt," he whispers into my ear and then rolls back over to his side of the bed. I was kind of hoping he would hug me, I know I can't fall asleep like that but it would have been nice just for a little while. I don't know why but I could really use a hug from him right now.

"Goodnight, Sam."


	4. Talking

The approaching encounter with Santana throws my _no looking in mirrors_ rule out of the window. It's Sunday morning and since Sam left I've spent most of it trying to decide what to wear, so I kind of have to look in in the mirror.

This morning has been the longest one I've had in a while because I was woken up super early by Santana's text which told me to get to hers at one o'clock. I have no clue why she was up so early, I never get up before nine if I don't have to. Why would you _want_ to?

I've managed to narrow my choices down to two outfits; a blue, flowery dress that stops a few inches above my knees with boots and a cardigan, or jeans with my favorite smiley face t-shirt. It's nice to finally have only two options because I've changed my mind more times than I can count. I want to look nice, but I don't want to look like I've tried too hard, and Santana only wore a t-shirt and jeans when she came over. I'm going to go with the t-shirt and jeans. Actually, maybe I shouldn't; she might think I've copied what she wore on purpose. No, I'm going with the dress, and then I'm going to stop thinking about it.

I step away from the mirror once I've changed and checked myself out from every possible angle. I still have just under an hour before I have to be at Santana's so I decide to clean up the mess we made yesterday. I was hoping Sam would help me because I hate cleaning, but he left before I remembered and he won't be back until tomorrow after I finish work. I can't leave it that long, it'll drive me crazy. I hate cleaning, but I hate looking at mess more.

Once I start clearing bottles and going at surfaces with spray and a cloth I'm actually glad to have something to do, it's nice to have a distraction. I'm so nervous and I don't even know why; these nerves are kind of coming out of nowhere. I mean, yesterday I was excited and anxious to see Santana, but I wasn't nervous. In fact, this is the opposite of what she made me feel all the other times I've seen her. I usually feel inexplicably relaxed around her, considering she's practically a stranger and someone whom I was told from the get-go was supposed to be scary and mean. But she's not scary or mean; not at all.

I can't really explain why, because I don't think there are ever real reasons for things like this; but I just feel comfortable around her. And as much as it scares me, I wouldn't give that feeling up for anything because I never thought it would happen, and now that it has I'm kind of addicted.

Right now though, I don't feel that way at all. I feel cold and nervous and something else that I can't quite place, but whatever it is, it's giving me a painful knot in my tummy that won't come loose. It's a little like the guilt I sometimes feel when I'm with Sam, when the secret I have feels like it's wedged between us.

I know I'm not ready for the way Santana makes me feel, and maybe the secret will wedge itself between us, too. And even if things were different I know that nobody should be hidden – especially not her. So I decide to try and convince myself that I just really enjoy her company. That's all it is. I need her, somehow.

/

When I get to the door of the apartment I think is Santana's I stand in front of it and check, for the third time, the text she sent me earlier.

_Hey. If u still wana come over for lunch it'll be ready around 1 o clock. Im in the Newton building. Apartment 301._

I'm definitely in the right place; I just need to get my nerves under control before I knock on the door. I have this weird, trembling feeling in my tummy. After I finished cleaning I still had twenty minutes left so I decided to just walk here really slow, but it didn't work because when I check my phone again I realize that it's _12:58_ and I'm two minutes early.

Okay, I should just knock; it's way too late to cancel now anyway, she's probably already made lunch. I raise my fist up to the door and take a big gulp, attempting in vain to swallow the apprehension that is clogging my throat so much I'm worried Santana will open the door and I won't be able to say anything.

_Knock knock knock_

When she opens the door my eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. She's wearing a super tight tank top and the shortest hot pants I've ever seen. There's a thin layer of sweat coating her skin, making it all shiny and her hair is up in a messy bun with little flyaway pieces clinging to her forehead and neck. She looks like I interrupted her in the middle of working out or something. I was sure I got the right time, so sure, but now I'm looking at her and feeling really stupid because it looks like I haven't.

"Hey," she says, sounding a little breathless. "I hope you don't mind heat, come on in."

I have no idea what she's talking about so I just smile.

She steps aside to let me in and as soon as I set foot through the door I realize why she looks the way she does. It's like stepping into an oven; it's that horrible, muggy heat that makes you tired and irritable and instantly makes your clothes stick to every bit of your skin. I turn to look at her as she shuts the door.

"I'm really sorry, I know it's like a freakin' sauna in here, the thermostat's broken. I'm waiting for the super to come fix it," she tells me. I smile at her because she sounds kind of stressed out.

"That's okay; we can pretend we're on vacation in the Bahamas," I say and it makes her snort out a laugh.

"Yeah, good plan. I'll go grab us some margaritas," she says. I smile again because, usually, people don't play along with my silly jokes. I immediately take off my cardigan and ask her if I can take off my boots too. She laughs and takes them from me once they're off, then puts them by the door. I always have to take off my shoes and socks if I'm too hot, just something I've always done. I'm super glad I wore a dress instead of jeans now.

"So, what do you want to drink? I have wine and beer, or juice if you don't want alcohol."

"I'll just have whatever you're having."

She nods and leads me out into the kitchen. I can't help but take in everything around me as I walk with her. I didn't notice when I first walked in because I was thinking about being hot, but her apartment is huge and really nice. I don't know what I expected her apartment to look like, but it definitely wasn't this. Everything looks so expensive. I know teachers earn more than I do but I still didn't think they earned very much. Maybe I _should_ go back to college.

The only colors I can really see are whites and greys and blacks, which makes the place look like it should be cold instead of hot. It looks like one of those show homes you see in catalogues and it doesn't seem to suit her at all. I keep my arms pressed firmly to my sides as we're walking to make sure I don't knock anything over.

When we get to the kitchen she tells me to take a seat at the table while she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge.

"Your apartment is really nice," I say as she pours two glasses and hands one to me. "Thanks." I hardly ever drink wine but I always like it when I do, it makes me feel like a grown up.

"Yeah," she replies as she turns to put the wine bottle back in the fridge. "Well it belongs to my parents actually. They live in Florida now but they wanted to have a place here too for when they come and visit family and stuff."

She starts pulling food out of the fridge and sets it on the counter next to her glass of wine. "They said I could stay here until I get a place of my own, it's pretty handy, they own it so I don't have to pay rent or anything." She turns and smiles. "Right, I _was_ going to cook, but since it's so hot how about a fruit salad instead?"

"Sounds good." I nod and smile. She turns back and starts chopping stuff with a huge knife. "That's a pretty sweet deal with the apartment. So, your Mom and Dad have like, two homes?"

I wonder what they do for a living to be able to afford two homes; and I'm guessing the one they live in is probably even nicer than this one. I guess technically my parents have two homes too, but that's just because they don't live together.

"M-hmm." She nods but doesn't look at me.

I don't say anything else until she's finished making lunch. I want to, but I don't want to distract her while she's chopping stuff with a giant knife. When she's finished she puts both our plates and her wine glass on the table and grabs the wine bottle from the fridge again.

"If you want anything else to drink just say." She smiles at me.

"Okay, thanks," I mumble covering my mouth when I say it so that no food comes out. Then I feel bad because she hasn't even got to the table I always forget you shouldn't start eating until everybody's sitting down.

When she does sit down we eat in silence for a few minutes, but it's not uncomfortable. I'm starting to feel pretty relaxed actually, but I have this itchy feeling that there's something that needs to be said, I just don't know what it is.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asks all of a sudden. She takes a sip of her wine but doesn't take her eyes off of my face.

"Sure." I hadn't even thought of that - that maybe she would have stuff to ask me. I've been so focused on all the things I want to ask her. She puts her glass down and rests her hands on the table either side of her plate and looks right at me.

"Before I ask, I just want you to know I'm not judging or anything, I'm just curious. And if it is what I think it is, I promise I won't tell anybody, like the school or anything. So, just promise you won't get offended, okay?"

She's speaking more softly than I've ever heard her speak and I'm pretty sure there's nothing she could say that would offend me, but I'm kind of scared about what she's going to ask. Maybe she's figured out that I have a teeny, tiny crush on her. _Oh God_ ; I really hope it's not that. I can feel my face getting hot already and all I can do is nod. I probably look like a deer, blinking into the headlights.

"Okay, well, the other day in class the kids were all drawing pictures of their families, and when I asked your sister about her picture, she said something about drawing her Mommy _smoking weeds_." When she's finished talking she looks down at her hands, which are still pressed flat against the table.

I think my heart stops beating for a few seconds. I drop my fork on my plate and look down too.

"It's okay, I promise I'm not judging you or anything, and you don't have to tell me. I was just curious, did she mean what I think she meant?" Her voice sounds kind of frantic now and I figure I should answer. _Crap_. How do I explain this? And how the hell does Katie know?

"It's not… it's not like it sounds." I look up at her and her eyes are so soft that I suddenly feel a whole lot better about telling her. "My Mom has this problem with her back, it started right after I was born. She's in pain a lot. So, she smokes _that_ to take the pain away a little, and to help her sleep. She doesn't do it in front of Katie though; she does it in her room, I don't know how Katie knows what it's called." I stop and suck my lips into my mouth before I say something stupid or that makes my Mom look bad. Because she's not bad - if someone is in that much pain all the time and they find something that makes it go away, of course they're going to take it.

"Can she not get painkillers from the doctor?" Santana asks, her voice all quiet and gentle.

"I think she does. They don't work as well, I guess." I shrug and she nods at me. "She used to get so angry at the smallest things, but she doesn't when she has that. Sometimes when she doesn't have any she gets like she used to get and it makes me remember why it's better this way. I don't want Katie to get yelled at, even if I know my Mom doesn't mean it. I don't want my sister to be scared; it's like, the worst feeling ever. And I don't want my Mom to be in pain-"

I stop talking abruptly, I'm such an idiot. By trying to make it sound better I've somehow made my Mom sound ten times worse. I can feel my heart beating in my throat and I look down at my hands again and start picking at my nails.

"Hey." Santana's voice is so soft. "It's okay, I just wondered. Like I said, I'm not going to tell anybody, and I'm not going to try and tell you what to do." I look up and she's smiling at me now. It's small, but it makes me feel better.

"Okay," I say quietly, and I try to smile back but I'm not sure it works.

I watch her as she picks up her fork and starts pushing the food around her plate. I'm suddenly not that hungry either. I don't want to be rude and leave it though and I'm just about to pick up my fork again when I remember one of the questions I wanted to ask her. I wanted to ask her yesterday but I didn't want to make her feel awkward, but now we're alone I think it'll be okay.

"Can I ask you a question now?" I ask. She looks up and smiles at me again. It's a crooked smile this time and it gives me that tingly feeling in the backs of my knees.

"What is this, quid pro quo?"

I don't really know what she means by that so I just hum and shrug. She giggles and it's cute.

"Sure, you can ask me a question," she says.

"Are you and Quinn friends? Or _were_ you? 'Cause you seemed like maybe you were but you had a fight or something."

Her face drops as soon as I ask and she looks down at her plate. When she looks back up at me there's something pleading in her eyes.

"You don't have to answer," I say, even though I'm dying to know.

"No, it's okay. We're, um-" I really don't like watching her stutter over her words; she usually seems so in control of everything. It's kind of like watching a grizzly bear in a tourist side-show, like you see in those neglected animal campaign commercials. Something beautiful and strong reduced to something way less than that. I sort of hate that I asked now.

"We were sort of friends in high school," she finally manages to get out. "And she… well, okay." She takes a breath and looks like she's about to lunge into water or something.

"You know about me, right?" Her voice is sharp and hard all of a sudden. "Like, I'm assuming if Berry hadn't already blabbed to you beforehand, you would have guessed after what she said in the teachers' lounge last week?" She's not looking at my face now, she sounds so frantic, like she's been backed into a corner. It makes me just want to hug her and tell her she doesn't have to answer my stupid question.

"Um, yeah." I say it so quietly I wonder if she can hear me. I'm pretty sure I know what she's talking about, there's only one thing that Rachel has told me about her. She looks up at me again and I know she heard me.

"Well, long story short; I was pretty cut up about the whole thing back in high school. I mean, I fought it like _hell._ I won't go into details or anything, but, I did some pretty stupid stuff. Anyway, senior year I decided I was tired of pretending and that I wasn't going to do it anymore. I mean, I wasn't about to start telling people or anything, no way, but I was so sick of wanting something I couldn't have. So I got myself a fake ID and started going to this… _club_ , _Colors_ , it's on that little stretch of nightclubs downtown, I don't know if you've heard of it?" Her voice is gradually getting softer with every word and I feel like I've discovered some sort of hidden treasure or something. I can't believe she's telling me this stuff. I nod and smile because I have heard of _Colors,_ and I know what kind of club it is; I walk past it every time I go to _Zinc_ with Sam or my friends.

"Well that's where I met Kurt. I was kind of a bitch to him at first. I just wanted to be left alone, but he was pretty persistent, and I figured I could use some friends who were… _like me."_ She rolls her eyes and for the first time since we started talking about this, I see a little smile on her face.

"He kind of took me under his wing, I guess. He was a couple years older than me and knew the ropes. I actually ended up thinking he was pretty amazing. Well, I still do." She's really smiling now and I can't help but grin back.

"So anyway, I started going there every Friday night and I met a few girls who I sort of liked. We would dance and make out and stuff." She shrugs and I see a slight blush dusting her cheeks. "I was always _so_ careful though. I gave myself Friday nights and that was it, if somebody asked for my number or to meet up outside of the club I would always say no." She stops and takes a heavy, shaky breath, her face turns really serious and she looks away from me.

"Well one night, I guess I wasn't so careful. I drank way too much, and I ended up dragging this girl outside and making out with her in the parking lot. Quinn came out of one of the other clubs and saw us. I didn't see her so I was blissfully unaware until the following Monday. Turns out she'd told a few of the other cheerleaders and they all told their friends and by the time the weekend was over pretty much everyone who was anyone knew. Then Quinn's parents told my parents which was _super_ fun. So yeah, I mean we were never exactly friends to begin with, we were just mixed in with the same crowd, but after that I never spoke to her again. I'm not still mad at her or anything, it was a long time ago, but I have no interest in being her friend."

She looks at me again and there's something different about her face. Like a rain cloud after it's rained, drained but relieved - I think she needed to say all that stuff, but I just keep wishing that I knew what to say back. And I can't stop imagining how bad it would have been or thinking about Lucy – the only girl I've kissed – and how I was super lucky she never told anyone even though I'd made her mad.

"I'm really sorry that happened to you," I say lamely. I really don't know what else to say, but I _really_ want to come up with something better than the words I just said. She just shrugs dismissively and still doesn't look at me.

"I know it probably seems stupid that I don't want people at work to know. It's just - I'm out to the people that matter, you know? I don't see why the whole world has to know my business."

"That doesn't seem stupid," I say softly. She just shrugs again. We sit in silence for a few seconds. There's a nagging feeling in the corner of my mind that suddenly makes me want to tell her everything. At least I know she would understand, but I think that would be crossing some kind of huge line. I've always figured that the first person I'd tell if I could ever bring myself to do it would be Sam, I owe him that much. Or maybe even my brother, he would _definitely_ understand. So instead of that I just say the first thing that comes into my head.

"I think that's the most words I've heard you say since I've known you."

She looks at me and just smiles. "I think that's the most words I've said to anyone in a really long time actually." She breathes out a laugh and looks back down at her plate. She's blushing again; and I've decided I love it when she does that. "So, I'm done eating, are you?" She looks up at me again.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, it was delicious." I grin. She giggles and stands up, holding her plate out for me to put mine on top.

While she's rinsing the dishes off in the sink she asks me what I want to do next. I tell her that I don't mind so she asks if I want to watch a movie. I tell her I think that's an awesome idea.

When we walk back into the living room I'm suddenly reminded of how hot it is. It didn't seem so bad in the kitchen but it's stifling in here. Santana crouches in front of the huge TV in turns it on.

"So what did you want to watch?" she asks without looking at me.

"Um, do you have the Lion King?"

"Uh… no, sorry." She giggles.

"Finding Nemo?"

"No, I don't think I have anything like that." She turns around and smiles. It's that smile that makes me feel all warm and tingly. "I think I might have something you'll like actually." She turns back and starts running her pointer finger down the stack of DVDs next to the TV. "Here we go." She pulls out one of the cases, opens it and slides the disc into the DVD player. Then she throws the case to me.

"Drop Dead Fred?" I look back at her and scrunch my eyebrows together.

"Yeah, it's funny. But silly-funny. I think you'll like it." She gets up and walks over to the couch I'm standing next to and drops down onto it. After a pause she looks at me and pats the space next to her.

"You _can_ sit down, you know."

"Okay." I put the DVD case on the coffee table and sit down next to her. I feel weird sitting on such a nice couch when I'm all icky and sweaty. I'm about to tell her I can sit on the floor if she wants but then I remember she's all sweaty too, except it doesn't look icky on her, not at all.

The movie is hilarious; I decide it's my new favorite right after the first scene is over. I look over at Santana and she's smiling, but not laughing like I am. I guess it because she's seen it before. There's a scene where they shave part of a cat which isn't that funny because you should never shave cats, but other than that – definitely my new favorite.

"Hey, where's your cat?" I'm sure she said she had a cat the other day.

"Oh, she's with my neighbour. I didn't want her to like, die of heat exhaustion or anything," she says.

"What's her name?" I can't help smiling. I love cats. She shrugs.

"I just call her _Cat."_

I giggle at that. "You don't really seem like a cat person, or a pet person at all." I turn to look at her. She smiles but keeps facing forward.

"I'm not really. Kurt's boyfriend's cat had kittens and they kept bugging me to take one. In the end I guess I caved. I actually kind of like her now though." She shrugs again. I smile and look back at the TV but then I think of another question, and I'm more confident now, so I ask it right away.

"Do you think you'll come sit in the teachers' lounge at lunch now? Now that you know me a little better?" I move my eyes but not my face to look at her. She pinches her lips together and shakes her head slowly.

"No, I don't think so."

"How come? I know you're not a people person because you're shy and stuff but I'll be th-"

"Britt," she interrupts, soft but firm. "I don't avoid people because I'm shy, it's because I can't stand them."

"Oh." I don't really understand, does she mean _all_ people?

"Look, I mean, some people are okay in small doses, like Kurt. But mostly I can't stand them and want to be around them as little as possible. And I'm not including kids in this, I like kids, it's just a shame they have to grow up." She looks a little irritated so I don't know if I should push this any further. How can someone hate _all_ people? Especially someone like her who has so much to give. I don't even think she knows it, but she does.

"Yeah, okay," I say quietly.

"Hey," she says. I look over at her again and her face is softer now. "I don't mean you either, okay? You're… different. I just like being alone at lunch." She shrugs and I nod. I want to feel happy that she thinks I'm different, but I really wish she didn't feel that way because she'll get lonely.

Just then her cell phone starts buzzing; she leans forward and picks it up off of the coffee table with a groan. When she looks at the screen her face visibly falls. I can't really explain that expression, it's like panic mixed with resignation. She says something in Spanish under her breath then turns to me.

"I'll be right back," she says and then she hops up off the couch and heads off down the hallway. I pause the movie, I know she's seen it before but I still don't want her to miss any. I can hear her talking still, but I can't understand what she's saying. I wish I'd paid attention in Spanish class in high school. She's not yelling, but she sounds mad.

She comes back a few minutes later without her phone and slumps down on the couch with her eyes closed. She lets out a heavy breath, I've never seen someone look so defeated. I guess arguing with someone over the phone on top of telling me all the stuff she told me earlier _would_ make you feel that way.

I don't say anything and I don't put the movie back on; I just keep looking at her, waiting for her to open her eyes, but she never does.

"You wanna know what sucks?" She breaks the silence after a minute or so, it's soft but it's laced with resentment.

"What?"

"When your own Mom wouldn't mind seeing you miserable with the biggest loser in Lima; just because he has a penis."

I look down at my hands. How do you respond to that? "Yeah, I guess that would suck."

We don't say anything for a few minutes, and I still don't put the movie back on but I look at the frozen screen until I'm itching to look at her again. When I do I see that she's still slumped back on the couch, eyes closed, breathing even. She looks so peaceful and for a second I wonder if she's fallen asleep. I shift so that I'm facing her with my legs tucked up underneath me and my side leaning against the back of the couch.

"Are you okay?" I ask, barely above a whisper – just in case she _is_ sleeping.

"Yeah." She echoes my tone, "I'm just way too hot." Her voice breaks a little on the last word and it pinches at my heart.

"Do you want me to blow on you?" I ask. She grins, her mouth is still closed but the smile is big and wide and makes her dimples show.

"If you think it'll help."

I shuffle forward on my knees a little and lean towards her, my chest pushes into her shoulder and I think about pulling away for a second, but she doesn't seem to mind. I blow a stream of air softly across her chest, from collar bone to collar bone. She gulps really loudly.

Somewhere at the back of my mind I think maybe it's weird that I'm doing this, but she hasn't stopped me, and I really do want to make her feel better. When I stop I see goose bumps prickling her skin and I can hear her breathing, her chest is rising up and down more rapidly than before. When I look at her face her eyes are still closed but her lips are parted slightly.

There are so many butterflies zipping around inside my tummy. I take a deep breath and blow across her chest again and hear her let out the tiniest gasp.

It's not enough; I want to touch her, so bad. Not in a sexual way. I just want to know what her skin feels like; I want to feel it on mine.

I lift my hand and really softly touch her shoulder with the tips of my fingers, and as soon as I do it's like I've stuck my fingers in a light socket. The butterflies in my tummy go crazy and tingles shoot from my fingertips straight between my legs.

Santana shifts slightly in her seat and lets out a shaky breath. The sound of it makes me squirm.

Okay, maybe this is a _little_ sexual.

I trail my fingertips from her shoulder down to her collar bone; her skin is a little sticky from sweat but it still feels super soft and burning hot where I'm touching it. Once I reach her collar bone I start moving over to the other one and I can feel her heart thundering under my fingers as I trace across her chest.

I look up at her face again and I'm a little startled to find she's looking back at me. I still my hand over her chest but I don't take it away. My breathing is heavy too now, the tingles are getting really bad and I have to clench my tummy so hard to keep them under control.

She's turned her face a little more towards me and it's really close to mine. Her eyes look so dark and deep, like I could fall into them and get lost forever and it makes me want to kiss her, so badly. I don't think I've ever wanted anything more in my life. She licks her lips and flutters her eyes down to mine and I feel a pressure building in me – like watching her is going to drive me crazy.

_Knock knock knock_

I snatch my hand back and pull away from Santana so fast when I hear that. She whips her head around to look at the door and then jumps up off of the couch. Her eyes flicker briefly to me as she straightens out her clothes. She looks so flustered. I watch her walk towards the door, craning my head round as far as it'll go before I turn back and face forwards again. I'm so disoriented, I have no idea what just happened. My chest is still heaving and I can feel my heart beating under my skin.

I hear her open the door and start talking to whoever is behind it. I turn and see her let in a blonde, middle-aged man with glasses and a beard. He's wearing a boiler suit and carrying a tool box.

"Thanks for coming, Brad," I hear her say as she leads him through the living room and down the hall, "it's just through here."

I sit alone for a few minutes while they talk and shuffle around somewhere else in the apartment. I don't know what to do now, I'm freaking out inside. Should I leave? Should I go find Santana? What's the normal thing to do after you blow on somebody and touch them inappropriately and almost kiss them? God, I'm such a jerk. I lean my elbows on my thighs and put my face in my hands.

"Brittany?" I jerk my head up and see Santana standing behind the couch. She's not looking at me, she's kind of looking past me. She looks so timid, fiddling with her hands on top of the couch. "Um, the super said this could take a while so, you might as well go. I don't want you to get bored or anything." She presses her lips tightly together and looks down at her hands.

"Oh, yeah, of course." I stand up and start walking towards the door where she left my boots and cardigan. I feel like the room is spinning and I'm just floating across it in a daze. I've freaked her out, I know it, and I don't know how to make it better. I beg my brain to think of something to say to make it better.

My hands are trembling as I pull on my boots and I almost topple over while I'm trying to balance on one foot. She opens the door as I pull my cardigan back on.

"Um, thanks for lunch," I say and my voice comes out all shaky. I can feel my bottom lip start to tremble. Oh God, please don't cry in front of her.

"Yeah, no problem. So, I'll see you at work?" She's still not looking at my face, just holding the door open and looking at her feet.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," I say as I step out into the hall. She closes the front door right behind me without saying another word.


	5. Cloak and Dagger

Rachel is never late. Never. In fact, she's usually at least fifteen minutes early for everything. I mean, it's normal for her to be in class before me since she's the teacher - she has to plan things and get the classroom ready for the kids and stuff. But even _I_ think getting here at eight o`clock when class doesn't start until nine is a little over the top. I guess she's just a perfectionist. She likes to get on top of things early. Be completely prepared.

Which is why I'm a little freaked out right now; it's eight forty-five and she's still not here.

I've been sitting at her desk since eight-thirty waiting for her. I figured she was just getting coffee or something, but now I'm starting to think she's not coming. It's not like she's never had a sick day before, but another teacher should be here by now to cover for her if that's the case. I'm not allowed to take the class by myself; I don't think it's legal.

I stand up and walk around the front of her desk, thinking about getting the classroom ready for her seeing as the kids will be here soon. But I have no idea what she was planning on doing with them today, so I just look around aimlessly for a moment before resting my butt on the desk.

Once it gets to eight fifty-five I decide to go find Principal Schuester and let him know Rachel isn't here. I tried to call her twice in the last ten minutes and she didn't answer. I've never been so unhappy to hear someone's answer phone message.

The Principal's office isn't too far from our classroom because the library in this school has two entrances - our classroom is opposite one of them and his office is opposite the other.

Once I'm standing outside his door I feel kind of nervous. I don't really talk to Principal Schuester that much and I'm pretty sure he's going to be mad when I tell him Rachel isn't here. It takes a moment to get up my courage then I reach up and softly knock on the door.

"Come in," I hear from inside the office. I open the door, step inside and close it again – real slow so I don't make too much noise - before I turn to look at him. He's sitting behind his desk and writing something on a piece of paper. I don't want to distract him from whatever he's doing so I just stay where I am and look around the office for a minute.

It's really small but it's nice, if you like brown. There are certificates on the wall behind his head and everything looks really neat, I think Emma comes in here sometimes and organizes his stuff for him. I don't think I've been in here since my first day; it all looks pretty much the same though, except there's a huge spider plant in the corner that I don't remember being here last time.

"Hey Brittany, what can I do for you?" I'm startled into looking back at him. He still has a pen in his hand and has his other hand clasped over the top of it. He's resting his chin on them and is smiling up at me expectantly. I can't help but notice the tip of the pen being super close to his face, maybe I should tell him before he draws on himself. _No_ , I need to tell him about Rachel first.

"Hi, Principal Schuester, um, it's Ra-"

"Brittany," he interrupts and takes his hands away from his face. _Good_ , that was going to drive me crazy. "This is the last time I'm going to tell you, you don't have to call me Principal Schuester when we're not in front of the kids. It's _Will_ okay?" He's giving me a crooked smile and it makes me feel a little less nervous about talking to him.

"Right, sorry, Will. Um, it's Rachel. She's not here yet and the kids are gonna be here in a minute and there's no substitute and I was just wondering if she called in sick this morning?" I say, my words running together like cars bumper to bumper in a traffic jam. He looks a little flabbergasted; I think I said all that too quickly.

"I see, uh, no she hasn't, not as far as I know. Hold on, let me call the attendance officer."

I watch him as he picks up the receiver on the phone in front of him and uses his pen to punch in a number. He speaks to the person on the other end of the line for a minute, there are a lot of _m-hmm_ s and _uh-huh_ s before he says goodbye and hangs up. Then he starts rooting around in his desk drawer.

"Right," he grunts without looking up, "she hasn't called in sick so I'm going to call her and find out where she is." He pulls out a little notebook, puts it on the desk and starts flicking through it.

"I already tried calling her, she's not answering," I say and start nervously playing with the hem of my shirt.

"You did? Okay, well I'll try one more time and if she doesn't answer I'll have to get one of the other teachers to squeeze your kids into their class." He finds Rachel's number in his little notebook and starts punching out a number on the keypad with his pen again.

I can hear kids in the hallway outside the office and I realize it's probably nine o`clock by now, the kindergarten class are probably all still standing out in the school yard in a line waiting for me to come get them. I want to go so that they don't get cold but I don't want to just leave while Will is trying to call Rachel, and I don't want to interrupt him.

"Okay," he says, hanging up the phone and standing up, "she's not answering, come on." He walks around the desk and leans past me to open the door. Once we're in the hall he starts walking super fast and I have to jog a little to keep up with him.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I'm going to see if Santana will have you guys in her class," he replies without slowing down or looking at me.

I feel my heart start doing jumping jacks in my chest. Usually I would find it super adorable that Will is _obviously_ using this as an excuse to see Emma – those two have been crushing on each other for as long as I've worked here – but I haven't seen or spoken to Santana since I awkwardly stumbled out of her apartment yesterday.

It's not that I don't want to see her; I'm dying to see her actually, so that I can apologize for what I did. I even almost texted her last night but I chickened out at the last second. I'm just really not prepared right now. I don't know what I'm going to say, and I _can't_ say anything while we're at work in front of Will and her class. This is going to be so awkward, I just know it. If I could have any super power right now it would be to turn invisible so that she won't be able to see how red my face is.

"Wouldn't the first grade class be better? They're closer in age; second grade stuff might confuse them," I stutter out as I struggle to keep up with him. He turns his face towards me and scrunches his eyebrows together.

"I'm sure they'll be fine."

When we get to Santana's classroom Will taps on the door and gestures through the glass panel for her to come outside. I don't think she sees me at first, she looks kind of distracted. The kids are all still buzzing around her and putting their coats away and getting seated and stuff. She puts down the stack of paper she's holding and starts making her away across the classroom towards the door. I try my best to keep my eyes up so that nothing will seem weird but as soon as she opens the door they drop to the floor like dead weights.

"Hey, what's going on?" I hear her ask, clicking the door shut behind her.

"Rachel hasn't shown up this morning, and I was wondering if you could squeeze the kindergarten kids in with your class today? I can't just leave them with Brittany," Will replies and I feel him touch me on the arm as he says my name.

"Well, it's still early she probably hasn't fully taken on human form yet," says Santana. I hear Will let out a stifled chuckle before Santana starts talking again. If I wasn't concentrating so hard on not looking at her face it would probably bother me that they're making fun of Rachel _again._

"No, I'm just kidding. Um, yeah of course. I was just gonna show the kids this nature DVD this morning anyway, Emma's just gone to get the TV from the storage closet."

"Okay, great. Right, Brittany I'll go get your kids from outside before they freeze to death. Why don't you just wait here?" I watch his feet turn and start walking away before I can even answer.

Santana doesn't say anything but I can feel her eyes on me. I think she's waiting for me to look at her or speak. I start fiddling with the hem of my shirt again like I did in Will's office and look up at her face.

I don't think there's anything anybody could have said to soothe my anxiety right now, not after what I did yesterday, but somehow the look on her face does it in less than a second. She's not smiling exactly, but she's not frowning either. It's all in her eyes; warmth and understanding.

She wordlessly turns and opens the classroom door and a chorus of screaming and giggling fills the air around us. She gestures for me to walk in before her so I do and I hear her close the door behind us. I can't help but smile, the kids are running riot - I don't think they even noticed us walk in.

"Brittany!" I hear a high pitched squawk and then I see Katie emerge out of the hullabaloo; she throws herself at me and hugs me around the waist. I flinch a little and let out a winded grunt because she head-butted me right in the solar plexus, then wrap my arms around her head and giggle.

"Hey sweetie." I look up and see Santana smiling over at us; she doesn't look for long before she goes back to sorting through papers on her desk, but it's enough to make me grin like an idiot. I tilt my head back down to look at Katie and find her big, blue eyes staring back at me. She has her chin resting against my tummy and a grin on her face which probably mirrors mine.

"Are you teaching our class today, Britt-Britt?" She asks.

"I'm gonna be in here for a little while, I'm not sure about the whole day yet."

She lets go of me and starts jumping up and down excitedly before grabbing my hand.

"Come on!" she commands, "I want you to meet my boyfriend." I laugh at that and let her lead me across the classroom. We stop behind a brown-haired boy who I've seen in the schoolyard a few times when it's my turn to be on recess duty. She taps him on the shoulder.

"Tyler, this is my sister," she says, grinning. He turns around and peers up at me, scrunching up his freckly nose.

"That's Miss Pierce," he says and looks at Katie quizzically.

"Yeah and she's my sister," she grins. Tyler grabs my hand between both of his and starts shaking it.

"How do you do?" he says, punctuating every syllable with a shake of my arm, before running away giggling. Katie follows him into the crowd of children, giggling too, and I watch them chase each other for a few moments, with probably the dorkiest grin ever plastered on my face.

I turn around just as Santana starts beating a tambourine above her head. All the kids freeze and turn to look at her. She drops the tambourine on the desk in front of her then walks around the other side of it.

"Okay, guys, we're going to be watching a DVD this morning so I need-" she's interrupted by an eruption of excited but hushed whispers and giggles. "Quiet!" The room goes silent again and I smile down at my feet. I remember when I was in elementary school and how excited I always got when the teacher said we were going to be watching a video instead of doing boring math or something.

"That's better," she continues. "Right, we're going to be watching a DVD so I need everybody to go sit on the carpet. _But!_ " She emphasizes the 'but' as the kids start to move towards the carpet before she's finished talking. "I need you to all squeeze up really close together because the kindergarten class is going to be joining us today, so we need to make room for them, okay?" Silence. " _Okay_?" she says louder.

"Yes, Miss. Lopez," they all drone out in unison and start moving towards the carpet again. Just then the classroom door opens and the kindergarten kids start filing in, smiling and waving at me, followed by Will. He mouths the word 'carpet?' to Santana, who nods.

"Okay, just go sit quietly on the carpet," he says to them and they nod and follow his orders. Then he walks over to me.

"I got them to leave their coats and bags in your classroom so you're going to have to take them back there quickly before lunch, okay?" he says.

"Okie dokie," I nod and smile. He turns around just as Emma walks into the room wheeling a trolley with a TV on top. Will rushes over to help as soon as he sees her. Cute.

I feel a hand on my shoulder then and jump a little, Santana pulls it back just as I turn to look at her. She looks so timid and my heart flutters a little at her closeness and all I can do is give her a tight-lipped smile.

"I put an extra chair out for you by my desk." She nods towards the chair. Even though I know where she means, I still don't move. I watch her walk over to the kids and I feel like everything is becoming lighter. _Maybe this will be okay,_ I tell myself. _Maybe_ …

I sit in the chair just as Will leaves. He waves goodbye to me first and then – with a big smile - to Emma on the other side of the room.

"Right, I'm just going to fill the kindergarten class in on what we're doing," Santana speaks from in front of the TV. All the kids are craning their heads up looking at her. I've never noticed how much smaller the kindergarten kids are compared to the second graders, I always think of them as being around the same size as Katie but they're really not. I guess I just didn't notice Katie growing because I see her most days.

"Now, the second graders have been doing lots of work on nature ever since they came back from winter break, with me and with their old teacher. And this week we're going to be looking at _bugs_." She makes a funny face when she says 'bugs' and the kids giggle. "So, I found this documentary on insects and we're going to watch it this morning, and I want you to really pay attention, especially my class, it's your job to set an example, so let's show the kindergarten class how well-behaved we are in the second grade, okay?" She nods in conclusion with a little smile on her face and presses play; shushing a couple of whispering kids as she walks away.

She crosses the classroom and dims the lights just as the film starts before coming over to sit next to me at her desk. She smiles at me and then pulls a pen out of the holder in front of her and starts grading papers. I can smell her perfume again, or maybe it's her shampoo, either way it's intoxicating. It makes me want to bury my face in her hair and breathe it in. Thinking about that makes my cheeks hot again and I quickly avert my gaze before she notices me staring.

/

It turns out Rachel's alarm didn't go off this morning and she woke up late, then she left her apartment in a rush and forgot her cell phone. Then her car broke down so she had to call Finn from a payphone to come pick her up and bring her to work. She shows up halfway through the nature video with her hair in disarray and her eyes all wide and crazy with stress. Santana keeps laughing when Rachel tells us what happened which makes me giggle too so Rachel slaps me on the arm. She always has bad luck, but it's the funny kind of bad luck where you lock your keys in your car or get a bad haircut or something, rather than the other kind where your pets keep dying or you get in a plane crash.

We decide together to let the kids finish watching the DVD, mostly so that Rachel can calm down but also because they seem to be enjoying it so much. I don't blame them, bugs are awesome – I used to catch them and keep them in jars when I was little.

Right before we gather up the kids and start to leave, Santana pulls me aside and bows her head close to mine discretely. Here's where my heart starts hammering and I'm sure you could toast marshmallows over my cheeks with how hot they get. I'm sure she's going to mention what happened on her couch the day before but all she does is ask if I want to come to her classroom at lunch.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, but my relief is short-lived because I start to wonder if we're just having lunch together because we're friends now, or because she wants to tell me she doesn't want to be friends, or because she wants to explain to me why what I did yesterday was wrong.

I really hope it's the first one.

/

"Brittany, what are you doing? Are you coming?" Rachel asks me from the door. That's when I realize how quiet the classroom is and that all the kids have gone to lunch and I'm sitting at the arts and crafts table by myself. How long was I sitting here thinking? I stand up super fast.

"Oh, um, I'm not coming to the teachers' lounge today; I'm eating lunch with Santana. That's okay, right? You always talk to other people anyway."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, of course, it's fine." She looks a little puzzled as I walk towards her. "So, you're eating lunch with Santana?"

"Yeah." I stop and smile. She's blocking the door so I wait for her to move but she doesn't. She just looks me up and down for a few seconds and it feels like she can see right through me. I feel heat starting to creep up my cheeks.

"Okay, see you after lunch," she mutters before turning and leaving. I let out a relieved sigh and leave the room in the opposite direction.

When I get to Santana's classroom the door is open and she's sitting at her desk with a cup of coffee in her hand. I knock anyway and it startles her a little.

"Sorry," I say and snatch my hand back to my side.

"Oh, that's okay." She's smiling, good. "Come on in." She points to a chair she's put around the opposite side of her desk.

I close the door behind me before walking over and slumping down in the chair. I put my purse in my lap and look down at it, fiddling with the straps while I wait for her to say something. When she doesn't I peek up at her face. She's looking at me with her eyebrows raised slightly and a smile that she's trying to hide.

"What?" I ask. Her smile gets a little bigger.

"Did you not bring any lunch?"

"Oh, yeah." I take my lunch box out and put it on the desk then set my purse on the floor beside my chair before looking back at Santana. She raises her eyebrows impossibly higher then lets out one, single laugh.

"Are you going to eat it?" she says, grinning now. I can feel my face going super red. I don't know why I'm acting like such a dork right now, I think it's because I'm waiting for her to say something bad. I really don't want her to stop being friends with me.

I tear the lid off the lunch box and pick up my cheese sandwich before bringing it to my mouth and then stopping. "Do you ever bring lunch? You can have some of mine if you want, I never eat all of it," I say.

"No thanks, I'm good. I don't really eat lunch." She shrugs and brings her coffee cup to her lips. Her eyes are still smiling and fixed on my face as she takes a sip. I start eating my sandwich but I don't feel any less tense; I feel like there's a giant rubber band around my tummy, squeezing all my muscles so they can't relax.

When she doesn't say anything else for a few minutes I start to think maybe she really did just want to have lunch with me. She doesn't seem mad at all; actually she seems sort of happy. She keeps smiling at me.

"So, you just wanted to have lunch together?" I blurt out.

"Um, yeah, I…" She scrunches her eyebrows up then raises them quickly as if she just realized something, "oh, did you wanna go to the teachers' lounge? God, I'm such an idiot, just because I'm an anti-social bitch it doesn't mean you are. We can go there now if you want? I'm sorry Brittany, I didn't even think about it." She starts getting up and I start panicking inside a little, she's completely misunderstood me, I have to make this right quickly. I don't want to go to the teachers' lounge with everybody else; I want to eat lunch with _her_ , even though she's not actually eating.

"No!" I almost yell. She stops in her tracks and looks down at me. "I… I just thought you were going to tell me off because I blew on you, and… other stuff." My voice trails off a little and I look down at my sandwich. I feel way too anxious to eat so I drop it back into my lunchbox and clasp my hands together to keep them still. "I thought you asked me here because you wanted to talk about it." My voice comes out so quiet even though I don't mean for it to. I see her sit down again gingerly in front of me but I still don't look up.

"Did _you_ want to talk about it?" Her voice is so gentle, like she's afraid if she speaks too loud I'll scuttle away like a mouse. When I look up at her she has her head tilted down slightly and her eyes are on the coffee mug in her hands. I can feel my heart beating in my ears, I have no idea if I want to talk about it or not, I just want whatever makes her the least uncomfortable.

"I don't know," I mumble and look quickly down at my hands again. Looking at her face is too much right now and I don't even know why. It's giving me this weird, too-tight feeling in my chest that I get sometimes before I cry. I know I'm not going to cry, but I know I could if I let myself. I'm not sure what even triggered it, maybe just the thought of making her feel so awkward; I didn't mean to do that.

"Britt?" she says gently, "what's wrong?"

I just shake my head and keep looking down because I can't think of what to say and every time I look at her face it turns my insides to jello. I really need to keep it together right now. I can feel the muscles in my tummy starting to shake a little and that too-tight feeling in my chest is making it really hard to breathe.

She puts her hand on top of both of mine and I feel all my resolve melt under her touch. Tears start pricking at my eyes and I have to turn my face even further away from her as they start falling. There aren't many, and I don't actually sob, it's just a couple of stray tears but it's enough. She knows I'm sad now and I feel terrible. She shouldn't have to deal with this – if I think about it, probably all I've done since I've known her is make her feel uncomfortable. All the staring and awkward conversations and what I did at her apartment yesterday, and now I'm crying in front of her.

I take one of my hands out from under hers and use it to wipe my tears away as discretely as possible, which is pretty ridiculous because I'm sitting right in front her of her and I'm sure she already saw them.

"Brittany?" she urges gently.

"I'm sorry," I manage to mumble.

"Britt, you don't have anything to be sorry for. Hey," she shakes my hand a little when I don't respond because I don't know how, "what is it?"

I force myself to look at her face now. I don't want her to think this is her fault so I try to smile and just shake my head. But the look on her face makes something inside me break; I don't think anyone has ever looked at me the way she's looking at me right now. I can practically see all the questions she wants to ask bursting out of her. People don't usually ask me questions, at least not once they get to know me. It makes me feel like I have to give her something, like I owe her that somehow.

"I… I'm stuck," I stutter shakily.

"What do you mean?" she asks. I just shake my head and suck my trembling lips into my mouth in response, afraid my voice will betray me again if I talk.

"Britt, how are you stuck?"

We still haven't broken eye contact; I'm scared that if I do I won't be able to look at her again.

"I… I'm… please don't make me say it," I croak. And then I begin to cry proper tears that I can't stop.

I feel her squeeze my hand super tight as I cry, my sobs are silent but I know she can see my shoulders shaking and the tears streaming down my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes shut. She doesn't say anything though; she just waits for me to stop

When I manage to get my sobs under control I take a deep, shuddery breath and look back at her face - her expression is almost enough to make me cry again. She looks so worried, with her mouth downturned and her eyes searching mine. It's so much more than I deserve.

"How long have you known?" she finally asks and I feel my eyes go wide because I know exactly what she means. She starts rubbing her thumb over the back of my hand. I don't know why I'm so surprised, I've made it pretty obvious to her, I guess I just didn't expect her to be so direct. I close my eyes at the sensation of her thumb stroking over my knuckles and let out a little sigh. I don't think I can hide anything from her now.

"Since I was about fourteen," I say and open my eyes again. There's a tiny, consoling smile pinching at the corners of her lips and she gives me a subtle nod. She doesn't say anything, though.

"I… I know it's my fault I got stuck like this. I was just starting to get used to the idea and then Sam came along and I really liked him and I was only seventeen and I was just so happy that I felt something for him so I dated him and I didn't know we would end up staying together this long-"

"Whoa, Britt, slow down, okay? Just take your time, there's no rush." She smiles and gives my hand another squeeze. That's when I realize I haven't stopped for air in a while and also that I'm so glad she still hasn't let go of my hand - she's grounding me. I nod and take another deep breath.

"I was going to tell people, like, one day. I did plan on it, but stuff just got in the way. Like Sam, and my brother and there was just never a good time. I should have done it though, I know that now. I should have told people a long time ago, I've left it too late and I know it's my fault."

"It's not your fault Brittany, you shouldn't think that. It's not an easy thing to do and people have all kinds of reasons for staying in the closet, okay?" she says and holds my gaze until I give her a little nod. "And what did you mean about your brother?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose for a moment to think. It's not easy to explain stuff with my brother properly, and I feel weird saying it. It's a strange situation.

"He's gay. He came out when we were still teenagers." I sigh again and shake my head, "I know that if I told my parents they would be okay with it. They'd understand and accept me just like they did with Ryan. But, I know on the inside they would be really disappointed, and my Mom would think she must have raised us wrong or something if _two_ of her kids turned out that way. And I can just imagine how embarrassed they would be when they had to tell people, I can't do that to them."

Santana doesn't say anything for a minute; she just nods and looks down at our clasped hands. I can feel myself shaking again and I think I'm having an adrenaline rush from telling her or something. It suddenly hits me that this is the first time I've ever acknowledged these thoughts out loud and that makes me feel slightly manic – like I've had too many coffees and I'm about to be sick.

"I understand where you're coming from," she says and sucks her lips into her mouth with a wide-eyed expression. I don't think she knows what to say and I don't blame her. I just shrug and try to smile. "You know it's not your fault though, or theirs, you are who you are and nothing they or you did had any effect on that." She gives me a tight lipped smile.

"I guess," I say quietly, I'm starting to lose my confidence a little now. I'm having to try way harder than I was before not to go into panic mode.

"Britt, I'm going to ask you something and you don't have to answer, okay?" she says, echoing my tone. I nod and wait.

"Do you cheat on Sam with girls?"

I feel my heart leap into my mouth and my eyes bug out. "What? No!" I sputter.

"Okay, it's okay, I just wondered," she counters quickly. "So, you haven't been with a girl since you started dating Sam?" My ears start getting hot so I look away from her face and start using my free hand to trace patterns across her desk.

"I've never been with a girl," I mumble, embarrassed. This must sound like the most pathetic sob story in the world.

"Oh, sorry… I just assumed," she says, "hey." She shakes my hand and I look back at her face. There's a genuine smile there now and I can't help but give a small smile back. "That's okay, you know, you don't need to do that to confirm anything. People who say that are wrong. I mean, I knew I liked girls way before I was ever _with_ one. So, you don't need to do that to be sure," she shrugs.

"That's the thing, how _can_ I be sure? I mean, I love Sam, I do, but I'm not sure if it's in the right way. I thought I'd have it all figured out by now, but I still don't even know if I _am_ …" I trail off.

"Gay?"

I flinch when she says that and jerk my hand away from hers; I don't mean to, it's just a reflex. "Sorry," I say quickly.

"No, it's okay, I get it, you don't want to be labelled." She shrugs. "Labels are just for making other people comfortable anyway. They can totally suck sometimes. I get why you wouldn't want one," she says quickly, her words climbing over one another like she thinks I'm going to leave before she's finished. It makes me really wish I hadn't reacted the way I did. I hate that I made her panic.

"Actually." I try to smile, "I would _love_ to be labelled." I give her a kind of half shrug.

"What d'you mean?" she asks, confused.

"Well, like, if I knew exactly who I was it would be a lot easier to tell people, like ripping off a band aid, and I wouldn't have to explain stuff. I'm not good at explaining. And _I'm gay_ is only like, two syllables." I shrug. She giggles at that and I breathe out a laugh.

"That's true, I guess," she admits.

We're silent for a moment and I look down at my lap. On the one hand it's such a huge weight off my shoulders now that someone knows, but on the other I don't think I've ever felt as open and scared as I do now. I think the fact that it's her that knows is a big factor. The people that make you feel the most special can also make you feel the most vulnerable.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," I almost whisper and try to offer her a smile.

"Look," she says, holding my gaze. "I'm not going to try and tell you what to do because, let's face it; I'm hardly a shining example of self-acceptance. Hell, my last girlfriend broke up with me because I wouldn't hold her hand in public." She shakes her head, breathing out a laugh and then gently takes my hand again, I squeeze back right away. "But carrying around a secret like this can be an awful burden, so I just want you to know that I'm here, okay? I'll… help you carry it." She rolls her eyes at her own words and gives me a shy smile.

I feel a couple of leftover tears from earlier fall from my eyes. I'm pretty sure that's the sweetest, kindest thing anybody has ever said to me.

"Thank you," I say as I wipe my eyes with my free hand again.

"You're welcome." She smiles but then she hesitates and I know she has more to say. "I just… pretending to be someone you're not can crush you eventually. And I know, God, I know that sounds like a useless platitude but it's true, and I'd hate to see that happen to you." I look at her eyes and they're sort of pleading, but I don't know she wants. "Just know that, like I said, I'm here. You can talk to me about _anything,_ okay?"

"I'm scared." It comes out before I can really think about how pathetic it sounds and I feel my face get hot.

"It _is_ scary," she replies and starts running her thumb over the back of my hand again.

I nod and squeeze her hand super tight. I kind of want to go shout from the rooftops right now about how sweet and nice Santana is; but that would probably embarrass her so I settle for a smile. How can one person be so perfect? I don't deserve anything like the compassion she just showed me but she gave it to me anyway like it was nothing, I just want the whole world to know how nice she is.

"Come on." She nudges my lunch box towards me and lets go of my hand, "you should eat your lunch." She winks as she goes back to sipping her coffee and suddenly it's like that rubber band that was squeezing my stomach before has snapped. It's not perfect, but it's better because of Santana. And I feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now, just for knowing her.

/

"Shouldn't we have brought wine or something?" I ask as we approach the front door.

"We've never brought any before," says Sam, shrugging as he jabs the doorbell.

One Monday a month we go to Sam's parents' house for dinner. It's always super fun; Sam's Mom is a really good cook.

"I just thought you were supposed to bring wine or flowers when you go to someone's house for dinner."

"Britt, it's just my family. They don't care. I _live_ here." He rolls his eyes, smiling.

"Okay, I hope dinner's nearly ready, I'm starving," I say, rubbing my belly.

"Did you eat today?"

"Yeah, I had lunch with Santana." Crap. Was it okay to say that?

"Oh," he says like he's just remembered something, "Did you know Santana is a lesbian?" He asks with his forehead creased. I think my heart stops for a few seconds.

"Yeah. How do you know?" I ask, trying my best to sound casual. I look away from his face and scuff my foot back and forth against the floor of the porch.

"Quinn told Puck and Puck told me," he shrugs. "Weird, huh?"

I clear my throat nervously. "What d'you mean, weird?" I mumble.

"Oh, nothing. I was just… surprised. Weren't you?"

"I guess." I shrug.

To my relief the front door swings open just then and Sam's Mom pulls us both into a bone-crushing hug.

"Hey, kids! Come on in," she says, her blonde curls bouncing up and down with each step as she leads us inside.

When we get to the kitchen she turns around, grabs my face between her hands and studies me. "You look pale and thin, are you looking after yourself?" she asks.

"Uh, yeah. Of course, Mary," I giggle.

"Sam, are you making sure she eats properly?" she chides. I know she's only kidding really, she knows I can look after myself.

"What?" He mumbles through a mouthful of candy. Sam's Mom always keeps a bowl of it on the kitchen table.

"Stop eating that." She slaps his hand away from the bowl as he goes to get more, "and set the table, dinner's gonna be ready in a few."

Macaroni and cheese is my absolute favorite. I love coming here for dinner, it's so nice to have a real, home-cooked meal for a change. I should really cook more at home.

"Hey Mom, where is everybody?" Sam asks between mouthfuls of food. I think it's funny that he's only just noticed they're not here, although I guess I didn't notice either. Sam's Mom's mac and cheese is _that_ good.

"Your Dad took Stacy and Stevie to Grandma's house, so I get the two of you to myself this evening." She smiles at both of us before going back to her dinner. This is another reason why I love coming here, Sam's family have always made me feel so welcome; they treat me just like another daughter or sister. I guess they're like a second family to me. I can't help thinking back to mine and Santana's conversation earlier.

_Pretending to be someone you're not can crush you eventually._

I know Santana was talking about Sam, and I know she's right. I would just miss him so much, six years is a long time – pretty much my whole adult life, we've grown up together - and it's just hitting me now how much I would miss his family too. I'm pretty sure I've seen more of his parents in the last six years than I've seen of my own.

"Sam, what's that on your neck?" I look to my left and see Sam slap his hand up to where is Mom is pointing. "Is that a hickey? Have you been giving my son hickeys, Brittany?" she asks me with a coy smile.

"What? No," I stutter out, mortified. I never give Sam hickeys, I know he doesn't like them. I'm so embarrassed that his Mom thinks I did that to him. I look at Sam again and his face looks as red as mine feels.

"No, Mom, it's just a rash…from the gym, where I get sweaty and stuff," he mumbles, looking down at his plate.

"Ew," I say and look back at Mary. She's glancing back and forth between me and Sam with the most horrified look on her face. I guess it is kind of gross, I hate sweat. I shrug at her and smile as I go back to eating.

"Sam, can I talk to you upstairs for a minute?" I hear her say from across the table.

I watch as Sam wordlessly drops his fork on his plate, gets up and walks towards the stairs with Mary following close behind. I feel like I've missed something, but I feel like that a lot so I don't dwell on it. I just go back to thinking about the stuff Santana said to me this afternoon.

A six year relationship _and_ a second family; that's definitely a lot to lose.


	6. Days

**Eight years, three months ago…**

"You know, you'd think they'd be used to it by now," says Tina.

"Used to what?" I ask. The chilly fall air hits me in the face and makes my eyes water a little as we walk out of the school's back exit.

"Us." She gestures between us with her hand as we walk towards the parking lot. "Being friends. I mean we're in _high school_ now, and they _still_ stare at us. And it's not like we weren't friends all through middle school. It's _stupid._ " She blows out a puff of air and shakes her head.

"So, let them stare." I shrug.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

I pause for a second; this seems like one of those questions that people only ask so that you'll ask the same one back. Maybe Tina is embarrassed by me, I didn't think she cared about people staring, she's cool like that. But I don't want her to be embarrassed.

"Not really, does it bother you?" I scrunch my eyebrows together. She shrugs back at me.

"No, I guess not. But I'm not the one with the _rep_ to protect." She rolls her eyes.

That stings a little, I know Tina said it was lame when I first decided to become a cheerleader, but I thought she was sort of kidding.

"I joined the Cheerios because I like to dance, not for my _rep._ Besides, what's the point in being popular if I can't be friends with who I want?" I always think it's weird that the popular kids seem to have way less friends than everybody else. Maybe I just wasn't paying attention the day they told us what _popular_ means.

"So you're not gonna find some dumb cheerleader to be best friends with instead of me?" She fake pouts and I giggle.

" _No,_ you're the only one for me, T." I wink and playfully shove her. She starts giggling too.

"Okay, okay," she says as we descend the stairs into the parking lot, "I feel like we need to do something super awesome when we get back to my place to make up for all this lame girl-talk."

"What did you have in mind?" I smile.

"Oh, are you not coming with us today?" She backtracks, sounding confused.

"What?" I ask and she pointedly nods her head forward. I look up and see my Step-Dad on the other side of the parking lot. He's leaning against his car and I can just make out my brother sitting in the back seat playing his Gameboy.

"Oh, I thought I was." I look sideways at her and she just pulls an exaggerated confused face and shrugs her shoulders.

As soon as Richard spots us he stands upright and starts walking in our direction. I had no idea he was picking me up today, I usually get a ride home with Tina's Mom.

I'm about to say _hi_ when he gets close enough but he starts talking before I can get a chance.

"Hey, Britt. I know you were supposed to go with Tina but I need you to come with me, I'll explain in the car." He sounds kind of tired and breathless. He grabs my wrist and starts pulling me along.

"Wait." I yank my arm free and turn back to Tina, she's still standing where we stopped a few seconds ago with a look on her face that I can only describe as _befuddled._

"Britt, we have to go. I'm not kiddin' around," he grumbles and grabs my wrist again.

"I'll call you later!" I call out to Tina as I let him lead me to the car. I open the door and slide into the passenger seat while he practically runs around the other side and throws himself in.

"What's going on?" I ask as he simultaneously slams the door shut and turns the key in the ignition; the engine reluctantly jolts to life and drowns out the sound effects coming from Ryan's Gameboy in the back seat.

Richard was silhouetted by the sun when we were outside the car but I can see him properly now. His eyes are all red and sunken and his usually tan skin looks pale and mottled. His long hair is tied up in a messy ponytail and his clothes are creased like he slept in them or something, except he clearly hasn't slept. He looks as if he's aged about ten years since I saw him yesterday morning. I didn't have time to think or panic before but I'm starting to now. My heart thuds harder with each passing second as I wait for him to answer me.

"Your Mom went into labor last night, she's had the baby," he mumbles as we pull out of the parking lot. "I just wanna get back to the hospital as fast as possible."

My mouth drops open. The baby's here? But it's too early; at least I think it is. I start doing math on my fingers.

"Six weeks," he mutters. I look up just as he turns his attention back to the road.

"Huh?"

"She's six weeks early, premature, whatever you wanna call it." He sighs. I hear Ryan switch off his Gameboy behind me. "I'm just glad you were both at sleepovers when it happened, it's like fate or something." He lets out a sick chuckle and shakes his head.

"Is it bad that she's early?" Ryan asks from the back seat, his voice cracked and broken the way it has been the past few months.

"No. It just means we can't take her home yet," replies Richard, gentler than before.

"Wait, her? It's a girl? Why can't we take her home?" My voice is stuck somewhere between excited, confused and scared shitless. Just like my brain.

"Yeah, we've called her Katie," he smiles. "She's in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit right now, they can't let her go until she puts on some weight." He looks at me briefly then at Ryan before looking forwards again. "I don't want you kids to get freaked out or anything, okay? It seems worse than it is. She's in one of those incubator things and there're a lot of wires but it's really not so bad. She's going to be okay. She's just really tiny right now." He breathes out a sigh of relief as if he's just finished a well-rehearsed speech that he was worried would come out wrong.

"Why? How tiny? Why did this happen?" I ask. I turn in my seat to look at Ryan but he's just looking down at his lap. When I turn to look at Richard his lips are pressed tightly together and his knuckles are white where he's gripping the steering wheel so hard.

"She's just over two pounds, so pretty tiny, she's like…" his voice starts to shake, "she's like a little doll." I see a tear squeeze out of his eye and suddenly the atmosphere in the car is thick and dark and suffocating, like an ash cloud.

I like Richard a lot, but I'm not all that close to him, we barely talk. Not because we don't want to, just because we don't really have anything to say to each other. We cross paths in the morning sometimes and he'll crack a joke or ask me how school's going, but mostly we just stay out of each other's way. He makes my Mom happy and that's what's important. One thing I do know about him though, is that he'd rather swallow razorblades than cry in front of anyone. Which is why when I see that tear I feel like my lungs are going to burst like balloons. I know there's something really bad that he's not telling us.

"Why did this happen?" I repeat my earlier question; I ask it gently because I don't want to make him more sad.

"You can ask your _Mother_ when we get to the hospital." The way he says that makes my heart skip a beat, is he blaming my Mom for this? How could this possibly be her fault? I try to push all these thoughts away. He's got to be beyond tired right now, it probably just came out wrong. And he said that the baby is going to be okay, that's what matters.

When we get to the hospital Richard sets off in front of us like a man on a mission, we both have to jog to keep up with him. I feel Ryan slip his hand into mine the way he does sometimes when he's nervous or afraid. I thought he might grow out of it as we got older but even though he's thirteen now he still does it sometimes, and right now I'm _so_ glad. I squeeze his fingers tightly with my own as we scuttle along behind our step-dad.

Richard gets lost a couple of times even though he's already been here because this building is like a maze. He has to ask a nurse for directions but we find the place eventually.

It really hits me once we get to the NICU how much I hate hospitals; the smell, the heat, the beeping from the heart monitors. The way we have to press a buzzer at the door and get security clearance before we can go in, like we're entering a CIA building or something. Even the color of the walls and the way our footsteps sound against the floor sets me on edge. I'm not sure why exactly; it's just a feeling in my stomach.

Richard leads us into a side room filled with a dozen or so incubators; each with one chair on either side. A couple of the incubators have people sitting next to them and there's a nurse at the far end of the room writing something on a chart, but it still seems kind of empty.

Some of the babies are fussing and crying but it sounds nothing like what I thought a baby's cry is supposed to sound like. They sound muffled and weak.

Ryan and I are both still standing in the doorway; we watch as Richard walks over to one of the incubators and that's when I notice my Mom for the first time. She's sitting in the chair beside it in a hospital gown, her gaze unwavering, staring through the Perspex. They don't say anything to each other; I don't even think she noticed him.

Ryan makes the first move. He lets go of my hand and walks towards my Mom and Richard, but doesn't say anything either. He just drops down into the chair on the opposite side of the incubator to my Mom and mirrors her stare, his face almost pushed up against the side of it.

I don't know why it takes me so long to move, but when I do I feel like my feet are being weighed down by concrete blocks. I think it's the tension in the room that makes them feel so heavy, and not just from my family, the overall feeling in this room is just awful. It's like all the best and worst feelings in the world have mixed together in the air and exploded like a cluster bomb over everyone and everything. Love and hope, fear and anger. Nothing in this room makes any sense and it makes me feel so unsteady.

I tentatively step towards the chair where Ryan is sitting. Nobody looks up at me, they just keep staring. When I'm close enough I peer down through the transparent plastic box and feel my heart seize inside my chest.

She's sleeping, but she's dreaming, her eyes flicker behind their lids and her mouth makes little smacking movements. She's only wearing a diaper – I assume she can't wear clothes yet because of all the wires and tubes - and her head is covered by a pink, woollen cap. There are blonde, downy hairs covering her body and her skin is pink and wrinkled like a baby bird. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I doubt there are even clothes in existence small enough for her tiny body, and she really is _tiny._ I think I could hold her head in the palm of my hand and her feet still wouldn't reach my elbow crease. I feel my throat tighten with tears. I love her so much and I don't even know her yet, how is that possible?

"Are we allowed to hold her?" I ask no-one in particular. It's Richard who answers.

"No, honey. Not yet." I hear him step around the incubator towards me and I watch as he unclips a latch on the side. A little circular panel that I didn't notice before slides open. "But you can hold her hand if you want. Just for a minute."

"Okay," I mumble shakily and smile at him. I gingerly put my hand through the panel as he retreats and nudge Katie's hand gently with my finger as if testing the waters. I feel Ryan lean in for a closer look beside me. Even though she's asleep she instinctively wraps her minute fingers around my pinkie and grips it with a strength she doesn't look capable of. I let out a shaky breath, completely overwhelmed at how good that little action makes me feel. I don't have words to describe how comforting it is, she's so strong, and in this moment I feel like she's going to be okay. I turn to Ryan and give him a dorky grin which he returns.

"I want a turn," he whispers. I gently wiggle my finger free and step aside to give him room. I watch in awe as he repeats my actions and she grips his finger the same way she did mine.

"Okay," says Richard gently, stepping round towards us again. "That's enough now." Ryan takes his hand out of the incubator and Richard closes the panel and fastens the latch again. That's when I notice someone whimpering. I look up and my stomach drops when I realize it's my Mom.

Ryan immediately scampers around the other side of the incubator and leans down, wrapping his arms around her from the side. "Mom, what's wrong?" he asks.

"W-what do you think?" she sobs.

"Don't talk to him like that," I hear beside me. Richard's voice is louder than it's been all afternoon and it startles me a little.

I watch as Ryan pulls away from my Mom, he stays standing next to her and starts rubbing her shoulder and staring awkwardly down at his feet.

"I just can't believe this is happening." She shakes her head as a fresh wave of sobs consumes her.

"It's your fault this is happening!" Richard bellows. That sick feeling from earlier returns twice as strong. I can't even process the actual words that are being said, all I can do is hear them and wish that none of this was happening.

"How can you say that? Don't you think I feel bad enough already?" she wails. I'm sure the other few people in the room must be staring at us now but I'm too focused on Katie to look up and see.

"Don't give me that, Carol! All you had to do was stop smoking that… _stuff_. I told you. I told you over and over and you didn't listen and now our baby is sick because of you! So don't you dare sit there and play the fucking victim!"

"Mr Taylor!"

I look up when I hear that, at the nurse on the other side of the room. She's scowling at Richard with her hands on her hips. "If you can't keep your voice down I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Don't worry, I'm going," he mutters and storms out of the room. My Mom sobs even harder and Ryan wraps his arms around her shoulders again and hugs her tightly.

I look back down at my baby sister and will myself not to cry too. I can't help but feel like she's holding everything together right now. Like she's the new centre of our universe that we're all supposed to orbit around, trying our best not to collide with one another.

/

**Present day…**

Every once in a while a day comes along that changes everything. The day my sister was born it was like there was a fault line in my heart that cracked open and divided my life into _before_ and _after._

After seven excruciating weeks in hospital she finally put on enough weight and was allowed to come home with us. I didn't really get to bond with her much while she was in hospital, I would go visit every day after school but we were rarely allowed to hold her or feed her or anything like that. We mostly just watched her sleep inside her little Perspex cocoon and hoped upon hope that she would keep gaining weight.

When she came home was when I really fell in love with her; my Mom had really bad postpartum depression and Richard had to work all the time and Ryan was only thirteen so I ended up taking care of her a lot. My Mom even kept me off school sometimes so I could help out, and I loved every second of it - even changing diapers. Katie filled the crack in my heart the same way you'd fill a crack in the wall with spackling paste. It was like I got to feel all the joy and love that my Mom couldn't, it was the best feeling in the world, but I would have given it back to my Mom in a heartbeat if I could.

The day my sister was born was one of those days that changed everything. Maybe I wasn't prepared for the _way_ it happened; but I _was_ prepared, because I knew she was coming.

But sometimes days that change everything come out of nowhere.

"Hey, Britt!" Santana's voice pulls me from my thoughts. I stop walking and turn around to see her locking her classroom door. She slips her keys into her purse when she's done and starts walking towards me with a little smile on her face.

"Hey." I wave at her as she approaches. "You're leaving early?"

"Yeah, well, it's Friday. I just wanna go home and chill. No dance class today?" she asks when she realizes I'm headed towards the exit with her.

"No, Will cancelled it 'cause the band need the dance studio to rehearse or something," I reply.

"Oh, you shoulda said, I would've kept Katie back for you."

"Well he only told me this afternoon." I shrug.

Santana started keeping Katie behind after class this week so that I don't have to meet her in the schoolyard anymore. If I'm honest I don't really mind meeting her there, but it's a good excuse to see Santana some more. It's like I can't get enough of her. I've had lunch with her every day this week but it doesn't stop me getting excited about seeing her after school too, even if it's just for a minute or two.

We haven't spoken about the things I told her on Monday. I think she wants me to but she's too afraid to bring it up. It's not that I'm avoiding it or anything, it's just I've already told her everything. There isn't any more to say, and I'd rather hear stuff about her than tell her about me anyway.

Besides it's way too much fun just hanging out with her to ruin it with serious stuff, we've had a blast this week. If my life was a movie there would totally have been a montage of us laughing and talking and goofing off. I feel so light when I'm around her - maybe she really meant it when she said she would help me carry stuff.

I pull my jacket tighter around my shoulders as we step outside, it really is freezing. I glance at my watch to try and gauge how long I'm going to have to wait at the bus stop. My bus should be there in ten minutes, I guess that's okay, you probably can't freeze to death in ten minutes.

At least it won't be so bad when I get home. Sam's been staying at my place since Monday – he had some sort of fight with his Mom – so at least the heating will be on and I'll get warm right away.

I realize Santana and I are almost at the point where the path forks off in two different directions and we're going to have to separate. I get the same sinking feeling in my stomach I got every time we had to say goodbye at the end of lunch this week; except this time it's worse because I know I'm not going to get to see her for two days now.

I feel like I haven't made the most of it this time, we just walked across the schoolyard in silence. I start walking a little slower just so I get an extra few seconds with her before we say goodbye. I can't work out if I'm being creepy or romantic; I guess I'm not supposed to be either – at least not with her.

"So, uh, I'll see you Monday," I say to her as we slow to a stop and I try to hide my disappointment.

"Why, where are _you_ going?" She's smiling at me like she knows something I don't. I turn my head and point behind me.

"The uh-"

"Britt," she interrupts. "We're leaving at the same time do you really think I'm going to let you take the bus?" She shakes her head, grabs my elbow and starts leading me towards the parking lot the same way she did this time last week. It makes me smile and I don't protest this time.

"What kind of car is this?" I ask as I pull my seatbelt over my shoulder and click it into place.

"Lexus SC 430." she smiles and starts the engine. I don't really know why I asked, I know squat about cars. That just sounded like bunch of letters and numbers to me. All I know is her car is black and shiny and looks really expensive.

"It's awesome," I tell her.

"Thanks," she chuckles. Then we pull out of the lot and onto the road in silence.

"So what are you doing when you get home?" I ask after a few minutes.

"Um, well I was planning on doing nothing but I've just remembered I have to meet Kurt for drinks in a couple hours," she says absently.

"That sounds like fun." I grin.

"Yeah, I guess."

We go back to silence and I start bobbing my leg up and down nervously. I'm itching to talk to her some more but it's like all the things in my head that I want to say to her are trying to fit through the door at once and now they're stuck.

"Did your girlfriend really break up with you because you wouldn't hold her hand?" I blurt out and then slap my hand to my mouth. She goes a little stiff beside me and I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. I didn't mean for that to come out, I _have_ been wondering since she said it – that seems like a harsh reason to break up with someone – but I didn't mean to ask her like that. She lets out a short, silent laugh and I see her shake her head out of the corner of my eye.

"What made you ask that?" she asks. I drop my hand from my mouth.

"I don't know, I'm sorry, you don't have to answer." I feel so stupid, my face is burning.

"No, no it's fine. Um… well that's sort of the short version. I actually gave her plenty of reasons to break up with me if I'm honest. I think the hand-holding thing was just the last straw."

"Oh." I look at her face but her eyes are still on the road and her expression is unreadable. "I'm sorry," I say softly.

"Oh God, don't be." She takes her hand off the wheel and waves it dismissively before resting it on the center console. "I was actually relieved." She looks briefly at my face and smiles.

" _Relieved_?"

"Yeah, I'm not really good at the whole relationship thing. Don't get me wrong, I liked her, just not enough to want to be her girlfriend. Actually, I've never really liked _anyone_ enough to want to be their girlfriend." Her eyebrows knit together and she shakes her head. She looks a little flushed so I decide not to ask any more questions. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Oh and just FYI." she startles me a little because the tone of her voice and the look on her face have done a complete one-eighty somehow in the last couple of seconds. "I'm not _against_ hand-holding or anything like that; there are just some places where it's not a good idea." She nods curtly in conclusion.

"Okay." I nod quickly and smile even though she's not looking at me. She seems like she's panicking and I don't want her to think she has to justify anything to me.

I get an idea that I think might lighten the mood a little. Her hand is still resting on the center console so I reach over and link my fingers through hers. Her body stiffens at the contact and her eyes go wide but stay on the road. I lean my head back against my seat, turn my face towards her and give her my cheekiest smile. It takes her a few seconds to look at me but when she does she snorts and starts giggling and I giggle right back as I watch her turn red.

"You are such a dork," she says and shakes her head, grinning. Mission accomplished.

"I know." I shrug and pull my hand back into my lap. We keep eye contact for a second and smile at each other before she looks back at the road. It makes my tummy tingle a little and my heart beats heavy and loud inside my chest. We settle into a comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, before I get the sudden urge to talk to her again. There's something I really want to tell her.

"I'm going to talk to Sam." I keep looking down at my hands on my lap and start tracing patterns over my pants with my fingers.

"About… what we talked about?" Her voice is quiet and cracks a little on the last word.

"Yeah, I… I need to start being honest with him. Maybe we can work through it together or something," I reply.

She's silent for a moment. "Maybe. So you…you want to stay with him?"

"Well… yeah. I don't wanna just give up on us. I love him."

" _Do_ you love him?"

My heart jumps when she says that because it sounds like she's mad at me. I don't think she's been mad at me before. I wrack my brain, trying to think of what I said wrong.

"Fuck, sorry," she says before I can reply. "I didn't mean it like that." She reaches over and rubs my knee quickly before continuing. "I just mean… are you _in_ love with him, like, do you think you can be happy with him when you have all these other feelings?"

"I…" I squeeze my eyes shut and beg my brain to think of the right words, I've never been good at explaining stuff. "I never got the same feelings with boys that I did with girls." I take a deep breath to calm my nerves; I'm starting to get that manic, shaky feeling again. "When I liked girls I would get this funny feeling in my tummy and I never got that with boys, and I never really got that attached to any of the guys I dated. Even if I liked them a lot." I look at her face again for reassurance that I'm saying this stuff right, she looks at me quickly and nods.

"But Sam was different; I really did fall in love with him. It even made my girl feelings go away for a little while. Well, it made them easier to deal with at least. It just didn't last, I guess. But I _do_ love him, and I don't want to throw away six years. So maybe if I talk to him it'll make things better." We look at each other for a moment before she gives me a sweet smile.

"Okay," she says softly.

"Do you..." I hesitate. I feel bad for putting all this on her and expecting her to know all the answers, it's not fair.

"What?" she asks gently and reaches over to squeeze my knee. I think she's worked out that every time she touches me I turn to putty.

"Do you think if I am… _you know,_ it's possible that I could still fall in love with a guy, like I did with Sam?" My voice comes out so quiet and I feel so stupid even asking that, she's going to think I'm an idiot. She takes her hand away from my knee and it makes me look at her face. I watch her inhale deeply before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Yes." She looks at me and nods with her forehead creased and her lips pressed in a tight line before looking back at the road. "I don't think anyone is really one hundred per cent _anything._ I think it's like you said; it makes it easier if you can just sum it up in one word, but I don't think you ever really can." She shrugs and I turn my attention back to the road too.

"I feel like I don't know who I am sometimes," I almost whisper.

She doesn't say anything back right away and for a few moments all I can hear is the whirring of the car engine and the noise from other traffic.

"You're Brittany," she says finally.

I smile at that but we don't say anything else until we've pulled onto my street and my building comes into view. My heart sinks again because I know I have to say goodbye to her now.

It also sinks because she's pretty much confirmed what I was afraid of; that maybe Sam was a one-off. I always figured maybe I was just more specific with what guys I like and that Sam must be super special. Now I just don't know.

We pull up outside my building and I unbuckle my seatbelt but don't make any move to get out of the car, I just stare down at my lap. I want to thank her, let her know how grateful I am that she's been so sweet to me, but mostly I just don't want to leave her. When I look at her face she's already looking back at me, forcing a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. I wish I knew what was making her so sad so I could try and make it better. She breaks the silence first.

"So, uh." She gulps. "You have my number," she says and sucks her lips into her mouth.

I know that's just her way of saying she's there if I need to talk to someone without having to actually say it. I feel a sudden rush of affection and I lunge towards her before I can even think about it and pull her into a hug. She goes stiff but she hugs me back and I can't help turning my face into her neck and breathing in. She smells _so_ good, and I have to force myself to pull back before she starts thinking I'm weird – if she doesn't already.

"Thank you for the ride, I'll see you Monday," I say.

"Yeah." She gives me a tight-lipped smile.

I get out of the car and close the door so fast I almost wonder how I ended up on the street. I turn and start walking towards my building and force myself not to look back her car, I don't know why it's so hard not to watch her drive away.

There's no elevator in my building so I have to take the stairs, I only live on the third floor so it's not so bad but I've always felt sorry for the people who live up on ten.

I get this weird feeling as I'm walking, like apprehension churning in my stomach. I think it's because I'm going to tell Sam stuff and I know I'm going to have to do it soon now that I've decided to or it'll eat me up. I just don't know how he'll react; I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to talk to me again and the thought of that makes the churning get even worse. It makes me uneasy to the point that my hand is shaking as I turn my key in the lock.

"Britt?" I hear Sam call out as I close the door behind me. It sounds like he's behind the the privacy curtain. I guess he was in bed, lazy-bones.

"Yeah, it's me." Who else would it be?

"Who's that?" an unfamiliar voice says. I freeze. I hear Sam shush whoever it is and then I hear scuffling.

"Sam, who _is_ that?" The voice is more forceful now.

I think my body realizes what's going on before my brain does because I start trembling uncontrollably and my feet start carrying me towards them without my permission.

"Uh… Britt, I'll be out in a second." He sounds shaky and breathless just like I feel.

I reach out a hand and pull back the curtain.


	7. Now I Fear You've Left Me Standing

"Britt…" Sam's voice sounds so tight and strained, like all the air has been vacuumed out of his lungs.

I look at the discarded clothes strewn across the floor feeling like I've been punched in the chest. I clutch at my shirt, right above my heart, grabbing a fistful of its material as I watch Sam finish pulling up his boxers. He takes a step towards me – all red-faced and wide-eyed - but then seems to think better of it and pauses.

"Holy crap, holy crap." My attention, along with Sam's, snaps to the girl standing at the other side of the bed. She's covered only by a sheet - wrapped around under her arms – and is looking back and forth between me and Sam all flustered and like she's waiting for one of us to say something.

"Sam is this…Who is this? Oh crap." She looks really embarrassed now and I'm so confused because she's asking the question I should be asking. I want to answer her, but no words will come out of my mouth, it just keeps opening and closing like a guppy.

"You weren't supposed to be home yet…" I hear Sam's defeated whisper through the haze of confusion but I don't look at him. I can't take my eyes off the girl, but not in the good, addictive way like when I can't stop staring at Santana. This is like looking at a car wreck, I want to look away but I can't. Everything about her screams at me, telling me _exactly_ what I've just walked in on. Her hair is mussed and her breathing is still a little labored, the parts of her body that aren't covered by the sheet shine with a thin layer of sweat. She steps a little closer to me.

"This isn't the way I intended to meet Sam's sister. Stacy, right?" Her voice is softer than when she talked to Sam. She is right up close now and holding out her hand.

"I'm not Stacy," I say, my voice sounding flat like a robot. "I'm Brittany." I let my hand fall from my chest back to my side but I don't take her hand. I just try to fill my lungs with air as I watch her expression change to one of confusion.

"She's my girlfriend," Sam mumbles. His face is still red and his eyes are fixed on the floor.

The girl gasps and her knees buckle; she stumbles back a little and sits down on the edge of the bed to stop herself falling completely and slaps a hand to her mouth.

"Your _girlfriend?"_ she whispers. She's staring at Sam, her face contorted in pain.

I beg my brain to come up with an explanation for all this on Sam's behalf because I know it can't be what it looks like. Sam would never hurt anyone like this; he's a good guy, the _best_ guy.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." He steps towards me and grabs my arms but I back away and snatch them from his grasp, his hands leaving icy burns where they were touching me. The girl on the bed is sobbing now, her face buried in one of her hands with her elbow resting on her thigh, the other still holding up the sheet.

"Mercedes." Sam's voice breaks a little as he walks over to the bed and tries to put his arms around her. She shoves him away like I did.

I can't seem to do anything, I can barely even talk. I want to feel sad but I don't, I just feel numb. It all seems too far away for me to actually _feel_ it, like I'm watching it all happen through fogged up glasses.

"Mercedes, please, I'm sorry," Sam whimpers, tears pooling in his eyes as she shoves him away again and stands up.

"Save it," she spits angrily, her voice stronger now but still shaky. She approaches me and reaches her hand out like she's going to put in on my shoulder but then draws it back to her side again. "I am _so_ sorry," she says gently. "I had no idea."

I nod at her because it's all I can do. I want to comfort her; she looks so, so sad. I think she's feeling all the things I would be feeling if everything wasn't coming through all muffled and distorted. I open my mouth to tell her it's okay but then I catch Sam's eye behind her. His face is still red and ashamed and panicked, his teary eyes are pleading and I have to get out, I'm going to suffocate if I stay in here.

I turn on my heels and start walking towards the front door as fast as I can. I hear shuffling behind me before Sam calls out.

"Britt, wait! Where are you going?"

I fling the door open and slam it shut behind me as I step out into the hall.

Slamming that door shut sort of feels like snuffing out a candle, like all the lights have been switched off in some room somewhere inside me. It feels final, somehow.

As I walk down the stairs I start wondering when the tears are going to come. That's what's supposed to happen when you catch your boyfriend in bed with another girl isn't it? Or maybe I should have slapped him or thrown a drink in his face like they do in the movies. But I didn't want to do those things, I still don't. I don't really know _what_ I want to do.

The air hits me like a bucket of ice-cold water as I step outside. I shiver and pull my jacket tighter around my shoulders as I march down the street with purpose, like I _actually_ have somewhere to go. It doesn't matter that I don't know where I'm going though; I just know I don't want to be in my apartment right now, not while they're still in there.

I think about calling Tina, but then I realize my phone is in my purse and I don't have it with me, I must have left it upstairs. I curse myself as I shove my hands in my pockets and keep walking. The cold air bites at my skin and the wind makes my hair whip around my face but I start to feel it less and less as I walk. I feel so detached from everything around me and the muffled sound of someone calling my name barely reaches my ears.

I turn and see the girl – _Mercedes? –_ running down the street towards me. Her hair is still a mess and she's cradling her shoes in her arms. As she gets closer I notice her shirt is on inside-out too. I decide to wait for her; maybe she's just going to tell me this is all some huge mistake. She stops in front of me and doubles over, trying to catch her breath, so I keep waiting.

"Where are you going?" she asks breathlessly as she stands upright again. The mascara tracks on her cheeks are more noticeable out here and looking at them makes my chest tighten.

"I don't know," I mumble. I try to smile because I don't want her to think I'm mad at her - I know this isn't her fault.

"Well… do you… do you need a ride or something? I have my car; I can take you anywhere you want."

"No thanks, I just wanna walk," I say and offer her a tight-lipped smile so that she doesn't get her feelings even more hurt. She doesn't return it.

"I… I," she stutters. "How long have you been together?" She looks down at her feel like she doesn't really want an answer.

"Six years," I reply. She screws her eyes shut like she's about to cry again so I put my hand on her shoulder and squeeze.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpers. "If I'd known I-"

"Don't," I interrupt. "Don't apologize, it's not your fault. He lied to you too." It feels strange talking about Sam this way; I'm so used to thinking of him as sweet and perfect.

"I thought we were dating, I… he never said anything about a girlfriend, how could he _do_ this?" She starts sobbing properly again and I have to stop myself from hugging her, I don't think she'd want that. I just shrug even though she can't see it and start rubbing circles on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, jeez, _I_ should be the one comforting _you_ ," she says, taking a deep breath and pulling her shoulders back. I've never understood the phrase _pulling yourself together_ before, but that's exactly what it looked like she was trying to do. I don't think it worked though.

"Not if you're the one who's sad," I say and shrug again.

"He told me that was his sister's apartment," she says, shaking her head.

"His sister's only thirteen; you thought she had her own apartment?" I ask, feeling my eyebrows knit together.

"Well, I… I never met his family…"

I nod in understanding then I hesitate, but I know I have to ask, it'll drive me crazy otherwise. "How long were you two…?" I don't finish because I know she knows what I mean.

"About two months, we met at the gym. He showed me how to use the cross trainer, he just seemed so sweet and… I can't believe I could be so wrong about a person," she croaks, shaking her head again.

"He _is_ sweet, you weren't wrong," I almost whisper. She scrunches her eyebrows together.

"Are you serious right now?" she asks, incredulous.

I want to tell her that Sam didn't do this just to hurt us, that people always have reasons for doing bad things and that we should at least give him a chance to explain, but the words won't come out. I'm not even sure I believe those things myself anymore. I can't make sense of any of my thoughts; they're all blurred and distorted like I'm trying to look at them through muddy water. And even though I'm not mad at Mercedes I really just want to get away from her right now so I can think. So I just shrug at her again in response.

She lets out a heavy sigh and looks around us before looking back at me again. "Are you _sure_ I can't give you a ride somewhere?"

"No, I'm okay, thank you."

She nods and looks down at her feet again.

"I'm really sorry," I mutter and then I turn on my heels and start walking again before she can reply. I figure she was owed and apology too, and I knew she would shoot it down if I stayed.

As I walk I keep thinking of all the things I should have picked up on that would have given it away; that _damn_ rash on his neck, how could I have been such an idiot _?_ Anyone else in the world would have known what that was, but not me.

The fact that he hasn't even tried to have sex with me for about a month probably should have been a clue too. I was just so relieved that I didn't question it. I shake my head at my own stupidity.

/

I don't realize where I'm walking until I'm there; outside her building, looking up at it and wondering if I should go inside. I don't wonder for long though - I know this is where I want to be.

I walk in and past the reception desk; the security man behind it looks at me funny but doesn't try to stop me. I think about how much fancier Santana's building is compared to mine as I step into the elevator. My building doesn't even _have_ an elevator, _or_ a reception desk with a man behind it.

It seems to take forever to get to her floor and I try and think of things to say to when I see her, of ways I can explain but I can't come up with anything. Maybe she'll touch my hand again like she did on Monday, or put it on my knee like she did in her car earlier and the words will just fall out of me.

I don't feel nervous like I did the last time I was standing outside her apartment, probably because I don't feel much of anything right now. I don't hesitate to knock, and it's firmer and louder than it was the first time.

Santana is wearing different clothes when she answers the door. She was wearing a blouse and pants earlier when she dropped me off but now she's wearing a tight, black dress. Her hair is all wavy and damp like she's just got out of the shower and she's not wearing any makeup. Not that she needs it, she's still gorgeous.

"Britt?" she says, a little taken aback. "Is everything okay?"

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out again. I don't know why I do it - it's not why I came here, this wasn't the plan, I didn't really _have_ a plan – but I take a step forward, put my hands on either side of her face and kiss her, hard.

She whimpers and takes a couple of steps back at the force of it but it doesn't take her long to wrap her arms around me and kiss me back just as hard. It's frantic and desperate and not like anything I've ever felt before. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to get lost in the way she claws at my ribs through my shirt, and the way she whimpers again as I push my tongue into her mouth.

She starts walking me backwards and I wonder what she's doing until I feel my back hit the door. It closes under my weight and Santana sandwiches me between it and her body. Kissing has never felt like this before, even when I kissed Lucy, so I know it's not just because she's a girl – I think it's just because she's _her_.

My entire body buzzes and tingles all the way to my fingertips and my knees are so weak I don't think I'd be able to hold myself up if she wasn't pressing me so hard against the door. It feels like there's an electrical storm in my tummy that's getting bigger and bigger by the second and my breathing is heavy and labored.

She's pressing her body so hard against mine that it almost hurts but I don't care. If anything I want her closer. I slide my hands from her face, down her neck and her sides and around her waist, fisting the material at the back of her dress as she reaches up and tangles her hands in my hair on either side of my head and kisses me even harder. Every time I try to put my tongue in her mouth she pushes it back with her own and it makes me moan. The sound surprises me; I don't think I've ever involuntarily made a noise like that before, not just from kissing anyway.

Our lips smack and bruise against each other and I feel myself getting lightheaded from lack of oxygen. She slides her hands down out of my hair and I feel her nails bite into the back of my neck at the same time as she bites down on my bottom lip. It's not playful in any way, it's hard and it stings and it makes me hiss and squeeze her impossibly tighter with my arms. She swallows my lips with hers one more time and holds it there, pressing desperately hard before she pulls away and we pant into each other's' faces.

"Britt," she breathes but then stops. She's staring at my lips with heavily lidded eyes, her own lips are red and puffy just like mine feel and her chest is heaving like she just finished a half marathon. She steps back and for a second I'm scared she's going to stop, but then she grabs me by the wrist, turns and starts leading me through her apartment.

I feel like I'm floating rather than walking across her living room. Everything around me is hazy and I don't feel in control of my own body at all. It's like I'm watching myself doing these things rather than actually doing them.

She pulls me through a door on the other side of the room, into what I assume is her bedroom. There's a dim light coming through the window where the sun is setting outside. Her bathroom door is open opposite us and the scent of shampoo and soap and perfume wafts in our direction, this whole room smells like all the things Santana usually smells like and it's intoxicating.

I don't really get much time to think about it because as soon as she closes the bedroom door behind us she pulls me towards her and starts kissing me again, burying her hands in my hair. I try to take the time to notice things now, things that I could only wonder about before. Like how her lips are even softer than they look and how they taste faintly of lip gloss, all spicy and sweet. I feel so hot, like I'm burning up so I shrug my jacket off and let it fall to the floor. That electrical storm starts up in my tummy again and I have to grip her waist super hard to keep myself upright because it makes my knees buckle.

The kiss is a little softer than before, but not much, and there's still something so desperate about it that I can't quite put my finger on. Every time her tongue pushes into mine it jolts so hard through my whole body that I whimper and wonder if it's normal for a kiss to make you feel these things.

I can feel between my legs throbbing in time with my heart beat, it beats so heavy and fast and it feels good but uncomfortable at the same time and I have to squeeze my legs together really tight to try and keep it from overwhelming me.

She rakes her nails down my scalp and out of my hair; scratching two paths down my neck and my collar bones before she starts unbuttoning my shirt. My heart starts thundering even harder inside my chest, a mixture of excitement and nerves and something else that I can't figure out. It makes me dig my fingers hard into her waist.

The muscles in my tummy quiver and tense as her fingers get lower and lower, brushing against my skin as she unfastens the last of my buttons before tugging the shirt forcefully from my body. Her lips don't leave mine as she throws it somewhere before wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me deeper, her body pressing into mine.

She walks me backwards until the backs of my legs hit the foot of the bed and I'm forced to drop down onto it, I immediately miss kissing her even though I'm gasping for breath.

She straddles my lap and pushes hard against my shoulders until my back hits the mattress and then our lips connect again. The kiss is rough and hard and fast and I claw at her lower back while her tongue tries to taste every inch of my mouth. The storm in my tummy is growing and spreading and my entire body is humming and buzzing and begging for her to touch it.

She doesn't kiss me for long this time before she gets up off of me and stands shakily on the floor at the foot of the bed, her chest heaving and her eyes darker than I've ever seen them. She looks possessed or something and I think it would scare me a little if my head wasn't so all over the place. I feel dizzy and drunk from her kisses, and a little confused about why she's stopped.

"Are you sure…is this what you…" She stops because I'm nodding my head and then I feel her hands wrap around my thighs and pull my hips to the edge of the mattress.

She starts unbuttoning my pants with the most determined look on her face and it makes my heart soar. I don't think I've ever felt this _wanted_ by someone, even if it's just for sex it still makes me feel _so_ good that someone like her could want me this much. She peels my pants off of my legs and throws them behind her before sinking quickly back down on top of me and kissing me some more.

She pulls away quickly and hooks her hands under my arms, encouraging me to scoot up the bed, so I do. She crawls up too, still hovering over me and once I lay my head back the pillows she leans into my neck and starts kissing and licking and sucking, her hair tickling my skin as she moves. I tilt my head back to give her more room and feel goose bumps erupt all over my body, but that feeling from before that I couldn't figure out comes back again and starts drowning out how good she's making me feel.

I screw my eyes shut and try to just focus on Santana, the way she presses a firm kiss to each new spot she finds on my neck before taking the skin into her mouth and sucking, and how she keeps letting out breathy little moans that send my nerve endings into a frenzy.

I slide my hands down her back and over her butt and squeeze slightly before clutching at the hem of her dress. I want to take it off but nerves are stopping me. I think it must be obvious what I want to do because she sits up, straddling my thighs, and starts drawing it up her own body.

I sit up too - I just want to stay close to her - and run my fingertips over her tummy as she pulls the dress up over it. I gulp and take a shaky breath; her skin feels so silky and smooth and scorching hot, and she looks just like I imagined. I pull my hands away as soon as she discards her dress and looks back at me, afraid she'll read my mind and know that I've imagined what she looks like in her underwear.

She tangles both of her hands in my hair again and pulls me towards her, kissing me fiercely and pulling our torsos flush together. She doesn't lay us back down and I like it, sitting up like this with her straddling my lap makes me feel even closer to her somehow. I close my eyes and moan into her mouth as my hands run up and down the burning, soft skin on her back. Kissing feels different now that we're both in our underwear; I can feel her all over me and it sparks and tingles where we touch.

Then that feeling comes back again, worse than before and I can't push it away this time. I feel it slither into the center of my chest where it settles and I suddenly realize what it is: panic.

It's not the same panic as before, the kind I got when I was doing this stuff with Lucy, or the kind I get when I think somebody's found out my secret. I don't know what it is, but I keep seeing Sam's face flash across the insides of my eyelids.

I can't stop thinking about all the times he must have lied to me, how every time he said he loved me these last couple of months it meant nothing. But mostly I keep thinking that deep down, I know it's my fault, and that I'm getting what I deserve. He probably knew there was something wrong with me, that I was pushing him away, so he went and found someone who was good enough for him.

It's getting harder and harder to keep up with Santana's kissing now and I feel my body start to shake really badly. My heart is thumping and pounding like it's trying to break free inside my chest and I'm sure she must be able to feel it as she slides her hands down and cups my boobs over the top of my bra. She squeezes hard, maybe a little too hard, as she pushes her tongue roughly into my mouth.

I think she's getting frustrated that I'm not kissing her back as well as I was before but I can't; my lips are trembling too much and I can feel them pulling down at the corners as tears sting my eyes. This isn't right, it doesn't feel right, because I'm using her to try and forget about Sam. And even though I like her so, so much and I've wanted this since the second I met her; I know this isn't how it's supposed to happen. I don't think I realized just how much I like her until now, and I know it means I have to stop.

I try to pull away but she doesn't let me, she lets go of my boobs and slides one hand around my waist and the other behind my neck, anchoring me in place as she tries to coax my mouth into keeping up with hers again. I can feel her heart beating against my chest now, thudding hard and fast and steady.

She eventually gives up on my mouth and starts kissing a rough line from my cheek to just below my ear and down my neck; biting and sucking at my skin. The trembling in my tummy is getting out of control now and tears start rolling down my cheeks. I press my lips tightly together so that I don't make a sound, I don't want her to know I'm crying because she'll probably just feel sorry for me and I don't deserve that. Or worse; she'll get mad, and maybe I do deserve that but it doesn't make it any less scary.

I squeeze my eyes shut to try and stop the tears as I wrap my arms around her shoulders and bury my face in her neck. I try to lose myself again in her kissing and her smell but it doesn't work. I still can't get Sam out of my head, I can't stop thinking about how I wasn't good enough, and how disappointed my Mom's going to be when I tell her, and how my stupid girl feelings have ruined the only thing that's ever made her proud of me.

A strangled sob escapes my throat and I feel Santana go stiff, her lips pause against my neck.

"Britt?" she pants, her lips moving against my skin. She tries to pull back but I tighten my grip around her shoulders and bury my face further into her neck. I don't want her looking at me.

"Britt, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" she asks, her voice panic-stricken. I feel my heart sink even more because I don't want her to be worried about me. I shake my head against her and open my mouth to try and explain but all that comes out is another sob.

She wiggles the hand she has around my neck free from where I'd pinned it against me with my arm and slides it around my waist, rubbing both of her hands up and down my back gently.

"Hey, _shhh,_ it's okay," she coos.

Her being nice to me makes it even harder not to let my sobs out. My shoulders start wracking violently and my chest aches from trying to keep it all in until I can't anymore. A few broken cries and whimpers skate past my lips before I start sobbing completely into the crook of her neck.

She doesn't press me to say anything else, she just whispers, "breathe," into my ear and rocks us back and forth so gently it's almost unnoticeable.

I open my mouth against her skin as I cry, I want to explain but all that comes out is a strangled, "I'm sorry."

" _Shhh,"_ she whispers into my ear again, "don't be, it's okay." She stops rubbing her hands up and down my back now and just hugs me.

"I'm sorry," I choke out again. It's the only thing I can say and I think it's because it's the only thing that makes sense to me right now.

"Don't be," she says, firmer now. I feel her slide one of her hands up my back and into my hair, cradling the back of my head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

 _But I do_.

I don't know how long I cry for while she holds me and keeps whispering things in my ear but I think it's a long time. My painful sobs have turned into quiet whimpers and sniffles now and my limbs feel heavy and weak as Santana holds me up.

I feel her move and I tighten my grip around her shoulders out of pure instinct.

" _Shhh,_ it's okay," she whispers. "I just thought we should lie down."

I loosen my arms and feel myself falling gently backwards until my head hits the pillow. I keep my eyes closed as she pulls away from me; partly because I'm too embarrassed to look her in the eye right now, but mostly because I'm too tired to open them.

I don't realize how cold I've gotten until her body is completely away from mine. Goose bumps start prickling my skin but I then I feel a blanket being draped over me and it hugs them away.

I feel a cool breeze a few seconds later as Santana lifts the blanket and slides in next to me. She presses her body against my side and rests her forehead against my cheek. I'm still sniffling and whimpering, like aftershocks from the real crying and I feel her gently wiping the tears from my face before cupping my opposite cheek.

I turn towards her without opening my eyes and I feel her slide her arm under me and around my shoulders while her other hand stays on my cheek. I nuzzle into her chest and snake an arm around her waist while she holds me there tightly and rests her chin on top of my head. I breathe in deeply and try to get lost in everything that's her. She smells like soap and shampoo and something else that I don't recognize, maybe it's just the scent of her skin.

I'm still sniffling a little but I'm so tired I hardly notice it, only when I feel her thumb wiping away the odd stray tear do I remember. She keeps pressing tiny kisses to the top of my head as she strokes my face, and whispering things that I barely hear until my breathing grows steady and even and I couldn't keep myself awake if I tried.


	8. The Right Thing

It's dark when I wake up.

The insides of my eyelids scratch and scrape like sandpaper as I peel them open. For a few seconds I forget where I am and freak out internally when I realize I'm in a strange bed and I'm not alone.

When I swivel my eyes up and see Santana, my heart jolts as everything comes rushing back to me and I feel my face flood with heat.

We're not cuddled up now like we were when I fell asleep. I'm lying on my side facing her while she lies on her back on top of the covers.

The moonlight shines through the window and bounces off the walls, lighting up the side of her face farthest away from me. Her eyes are open, staring at the ceiling and her hands are resting on her stomach.

I notice she's changed into some shorts and a tank top and I wonder how she managed to get out of bed and put on pajamas when I'd fallen asleep clinging to her so tightly. I start feeling self-conscious because I'm still in my underwear so I reach for the top of the blanket which is bunched up around my waist and pull it up a little higher to cover myself. It seems to catch Santana's attention because she turns her head to look at me.

"Hey," she says gently. Her face is still half in shadow but the eye that I can see properly is wide and full of concern.

"Hey," I reply, my voice cracked and broken. I realize how dry my mouth feels, I think I must have cried every drop of moisture out of my body. She sits up abruptly and swings her legs off the side of the bed.

"I'll get you a glass of water," she says. I'm about to protest but she's gone too fast, I could probably use a glass of water right now anyway.

I sit up on the bed cross-legged and pull the blanket around me, tucking it under my arms. When Santana comes back she hands me the glass of water and turns on the lamp on her bedside table. It casts a warm, golden glow over the room and settles my nerves a little.

She sits opposite me on the bed with her knees tucked up underneath her and studies my face without saying anything. I think she's waiting for me to drink the water so I chug it down in one breath and set the empty glass on the bedside table. I wrap my arms around my own body and look down at my lap, letting out a heavy, shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," I say. My voice is still a little hoarse but better than before.

"Don't be," she replies, putting her hand on my knee over the top of the blanket. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know," I whisper. It's not exactly true, it's just that I'm feeling too many things to know how to explain. "What time is it?" I ask. She pauses for a second before she answers, maybe there's a clock in this room and she's looking at it. I just keep looking at her hand on my knee.

"Just after eleven."

I nod and we're silent for a moment.

"I really am sorry, I just didn't know where else to go. You live the closest and I didn't have my phone and-"

"Britt, I already said it's okay, stop saying you're sorry," she interrupts, firm but kind.

I nod again and keep looking at her hand. She starts making circular motions with her thumb over my knee before talking again.

"What happened?"

I let out a sigh, not because I don't want to tell her but because I don't trust myself to explain it right. Even after everything I don't want to make Sam look bad because I know that really, this is all my fault.

"When I got home Sam was already there, he…" I screw my eyes shut and take a deep breath because picturing it is making me want to cry and I can't cry in front of her _again_. "He was with someone else, a girl." Her hand stills against my knee but I still don't look at her. "They were… they were in bed." I feel my chest tighten so bad as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I try not to let it show. I don't want her to feel like she has to comfort me.

"Oh, God. Britt… I'm sorry," she says, squeezing my knee tightly.

Her voice sounds so shaky it makes me look at her. Her eyes are focused on the wall behind me, like she's looking through me. She looks angry and confused and sad all rolled into one and for a moment it makes me feel so lucky to have made a friend like her, who cares so much. I hope she knows I would care just as much if _she_ was sad.

"That _fucker,_ " she hisses under her breath, her face suddenly draining of everything but anger.

"No... he's not." I shake my head. I knew I would mess this up. "He… it's my fault. I mean I know he shouldn't have done it but it's really my fault." My words climb over each other in my haste to explain.

"What? It is _not_ your fault, Britt. Don't even go there, he's an asshole." She snatches her hand away from my knee and starts shaking her head.

"But… I haven't been honest with him. He must have known something was wrong and that's why he did it. I know he would never-"

"Brittany!"

I stop because she looks so mad and it scares me a little. She scoots forward and puts both of her hands on my shoulders at the base of my neck, looking me right in the eye. I feel my ears start throbbing and getting hot because of how close her face is.

"I want you to listen to me, okay?" she says, much softer. I nod quickly with wide eyes. "This is _not_ your fault; nothing you've done could possibly give him the right to do that. If he thought something was wrong he should have talked to you. _Please_ promise me you won't just forgive him for this because you feel guilty. Please. Can you promise me that?" She almost whispers the last part and closes her eyes.

"Okay," I croak. I'm not really sure I believe the things she's saying, but I think _she_ believes them and that's enough for me.

"Okay," she whispers and opens her eyes again. She doesn't move away and her thumbs start stroking over the skin on my neck. My face is burning and I can't take my eyes away from hers, I hate myself for wanting to kiss her so badly right now. I feel my body starting to react to her closeness and I gulp and squirm uncomfortably.

It seems to snap her out of some kind of daze because she blinks quickly and takes her hands away before standing up next to the bed.

"I… I'll get you something to wear," she says and walks over to her dresser. She pulls out a tee shirt and another pair of shorts, similar to hers, and throws them to me. They land on my lap and I pick them up and look at her.

She pointedly turns her back to me before I stand up and start pulling the clothes on over the top of my underwear. It seems a little silly, being shy of changing in front of each other, after what happened earlier. My body starts buzzing again at the memory and I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of it.

"Done," I say and she turns to face me.

"You can use my toothbrush if you want?" She points towards her bathroom. "I don't have a spare, but I figured you wouldn't mind getting my mouth cooties." She sucks her lips into her mouth and raises her eyebrows like she's teasing me.

I feel that throbbing heat in my ears again, but I can't help but let out a little giggle despite myself. I watch as she holds her lips in her mouth for as long as she can before a stifled laugh vibrates through them and makes me giggle even more. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at her feet, smiling.

"Okay," I say after a few seconds and walk past her into her bathroom trying to suppress my grin. It's not like I'm happy about what happened between us tonight or anything; actually I'm mortified. I guess I'm just happy that she doesn't seem mad. I'm starting to feel a lot more relaxed than I did when I first woke up.

When I walk back into her bedroom Santana is already in bed and under the covers. She looks at me and smiles gently. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to get back in the bed with her or if I'm supposed to sleep on the couch or in a different room or something so I just stand there and fiddle with the hem of my top.

She huffs and flings back the cover on the other side of the bed. I look at her and she rolls her eyes, smiling so I smile back and slide in next to her.

My heart hammers inside my chest when she leans over me to shut off the lamp, leaving us with only the moon as a nightlight. She settles back into her side of the bed and lets out a heavy sigh so I turn on my side to look at her.

I watch her stare at the ceiling for a few minutes; she looks so lost in her thoughts, like sleep is the last thing on her mind. I wish so bad in this moment that I could tell her all the things I think about her, like how she's the prettiest girl I've ever met, and how I feel so good when I'm around her, and how I wish everybody in the world knew how sweet and nice she is. But I know I can't – not yet.

"Can I lay with you?" I whisper. She gulps and nods. I scoot towards her and feel her slide her arm under me and around my shoulders again. I lay my head on her shoulder with my nose pressed against her cheek and my hand over her heart. I don't know why I put my hand there, and it's not in a sexual way, it just feels right. Her skin is so hot again and I like the way I can feel her heart hammering hard and fast under my fingers, it reminds me that she's there.

I feel her own fingers close around my hand after a minute or so and press it against her harder as my eyes grow tired and heavy.

"Thank you," I mumble into her cheek.

She doesn't say anything back; she just squeezes my hand tighter as I let her heartbeat send me to sleep.

/

"Ugh, why is it so bright?" I groan with my eyes squeezed shut. I roll over and bury my face in the pillow, trying to block out the light. "Santana?" I call out when she doesn't reply. I pat the space next to me on the bed and realize it's empty.

I turn over and force my eyes open. Santana is nowhere to be seen but I can hear running water and music, I think that's what woke me up. I sit up and stretch my stiff muscles as I try to blink my vision into focus.

"Santana?" I mumble. I don't really know why, it's pretty obvious she's in the shower listening to music and won't be able to hear me. It usually takes me a little while for my brain to start functioning in the morning.

I fling the covers off of my legs and swing them off the edge of the bed. I'm kind of shaky when I stand; my knees wobble a little as I make my way towards the bathroom door. I'm not planning on going in or anything, I'm just going to let Santana know I'm awake.

I'm about to call out but I stop myself when I realize there's something a little off about the music she's listening to.

_Time after time I think Oh Lord what's the use?_

There isn't any music at all; it's just a voice…

_Time after time I think it's just no good_

It's Santana's voice, she's singing in the shower.

_Sooner or later in life the things you love you lose_

I grin and press my ear to the door.

_But you've got the love I need to see me through_

I keep listening with a grin on my face because she sounds amazing, I'm pretty sure she's my new favorite singer. I make a mental note to tell her that when she comes out of the bathroom. I hear the water shut off and her singing gets clearer and it makes me press my ear even tighter against the door.

_You got the love_

_You got the love_

_You got the love_

Suddenly the door swings open and I almost fall forwards before catching myself on the doorjamb and standing upright.

My eyes bug out of their sockets when I look up and see Santana standing in front of me in just a towel, her hair dripping beads of water over her shoulders. I follow one of the drips as it trails down her arm for a second before I look at her face. Her eyebrows are raised and she's giving me that same look she's given me before; that knowing-but-still-slightly-confused smirk. I feel my face heat up with embarrassment.

"What were you doing?" she asks, the smirk not quite disappearing as she steps past me into the bedroom.

"Nothing," I say and turn around. I watch as she grabs some clothes and turns to face me, hugging them to her chest and resting her butt on the dresser. "You're a good singer," I tell her.

"Thanks," she mumbles and looks down at her feet. I didn't mean to embarrass her but I'm sort of glad I can have the same effect on her as she has on me. "I didn't think you were awake yet," she says and looks back up at me, her cheeks slightly flushed.

I shrug and smile before replying. "Well you're really good, I'm glad I heard you."

"D'you know you slept for almost eighteen hours?" she asks, smiling. I am pretty shocked that I slept so long, but it's kind of being overshadowed by how cute I think it is that she's trying to change the subject.

"Really? _Eighteen?"_ I scrunch my eyebrows together.

"Yeah, well technically we went to bed at like four yesterday, and it's almost ten now," she says and starts walking towards me.

"Wow, that's long. Sorry. I hope you didn't get like, bored or anything, waiting for me to wake up," I mumble as she stops in front of me.

"No, don't be silly. It's fine. Obviously your body needed it."

"It's weird, I usually can't sleep that well with someone else in the bed, and especially not if we're…" I trail off, I was going to say _cuddling_ but I don't want to make her uncomfortable. It's probably weird that I did that. My face starts getting hot again but I feel her hand on my shoulder and it instantly makes me feel a little better. I still don't know how she does that, how she can make me feel all these things just by touching me or giving me a look.

"Do you want to take a shower?" she asks gently. I nod and she directs me into the bathroom with her hand between my shoulder blades.

I stand there and watch her while she switches the shower back on. I try not to look at her legs as her towel rides up a little too high when she reaches up.

"If you wanna adjust the temperature just use this knob here," she says.

"Okay," I nod.

"Okay, well, I'll probably be in the kitchen when you're done so, just come on out." She smiles and looks down awkwardly before walking past me and out of the door. I start taking my clothes off as soon as I hear it click shut and step into the shower.

I don't need to adjust anything when I get in, I guess Santana and I like our shower water the same temperature. The thought of that makes me smile way more than it should.

When I'm done I have to fiddle with the dial for a minute because I can't figure out how to shut the water off. It's so much more complicated than my shower and has all these different settings. I turn it one way and it makes the water slow to a trickle but not stop completely, then when I turn it the other way and it comes out so fast it almost knocks me off my feet.

I finally manage to get the water to stop and pull back the shower curtain. When I step out of the bathtub I realize Santana must have come back in while I was still in the shower because there are some clothes and a towel laid out for me. I feel a little bad borrowing her clothes, I wouldn't have minded wearing my own clothes from yesterday just to walk home in, but I don't want to go outside the bathroom wearing just a towel so I put them on. Some jeans and a yellow tee shirt with a picture of a turtle on it. I wonder how many people know she owns a tee shirt like this.

I quickly run a comb through my hair before I leave. My hair will probably look a total mess later but I guess I can just wash and comb it again if it looks really bad. I don't want to take too long in here in case Santana has plans.

I turn the wrong way at first when I come out of her bedroom and end up in the living room before remembering that the kitchen was the other way and turning back. This apartment really is huge, there are doors everywhere. I keep my arms pressed tightly against my sides like I did the first time I was here to make sure I don't knock anything over.

When I walk into the kitchen Santana is sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. I start feeling self-conscious because I'm wearing no makeup and she looks perfect. Her outfit is casual like it was the day she came to my apartment, and her makeup is subtle but definitely there. She's so beautiful; I must look like a gargoyle next to her right now.

"Hey." She smiles. "There's some coffee in the pot and I put a mug out for you on the counter." She points to the mug and goes back to sipping her own coffee.

"Thanks," I say as I move towards the counter and pour some for myself.

She follows me with her eyes as I walk over to the table and take a seat opposite her. We sit in silence for a few moments, but she keeps watching me. She looks so on edge, like she's waiting for a sniper to take a shot at me any second and she's preparing herself to jump across the table and push me out of the way.

"You didn't have to lend me your clothes," I say, trying to ease the tension. "I could've worn my clothes to walk home in." I smile because I don't want her to think I'm being ungrateful, for the clothes or for anything else. But she smiles back and it makes me feel more relaxed.

"Well you're not going home yet, I'm taking you out for breakfast," she says and takes a sip of coffee with a sort of close-mouthed half smile.

"Oh. Well I'd really like that but I don't have any money with me, can we stop by my apartment on the way?" I hope Sam didn't lock the door before he left because I'm pretty sure I don't have my keys either.

"No, I mean, I'm going to buy you breakfast, don't worry about it." She smiles.

"What? No, I can't let you do that. _I_ should be buying _you_ breakfast, after last-"

"Britt, I want to buy you breakfast, so I'm buying you breakfast, no arguing." She winks and goes back to her coffee. I do open my mouth to argue some more but she raises her eyebrows over the top of her mug like she's challenging me and it makes me stop.

"They do great breakfast bagels at The Lima Bean this time of day." She looks at her watch, "Oh, well I guess _brunch_ bagels now. Kurt and I have been going there on Saturday mornings since I moved back."

"But it's Saturday morning now." My eyes go wide as realization dawns on me. "Kurt, your drinks, last night… you were supposed to go for drinks." God, I am so selfish, how could I have forgotten? That's why she was wearing that nice dress when she answered the door. I totally ruined her evening.

"It's fine." She waves it off. "I called him after you fell asleep and told him something came up." She shrugs.

"You should've said. I would've gone somewhere else and not ruined your evening. I'm so sorry." My ears start to throb and burn and my heart starts hammering in my chest. I bury my face in my hands. I feel so guilty I don't really want my coffee anymore.

"Britt." She reaches across the table and pulls one of my hands away from my face, cradling it in her own. "It's okay, I'm glad you came here, I can see Kurt any time," she says softly. I shake my head and keep my other hand on my face with my elbow resting on the table.

"I didn't even want to go really anyway, we can go another time. It's fine." She starts rubbing her thumb over the back of my hand and for the first time it doesn't make me feel better. I wish I could go back in time to yesterday and just not go home early. Maybe I could have gone grocery shopping after work, or gotten coffee with Tina, and everything wouldn't be ruined now. Things would still be okay with Sam, and I wouldn't have embarrassed myself by kissing Santana and crying in front of her, and I wouldn't have wrecked her evening. Everybody would be better off right now if I had just never found out.

"Come on." She stands up and taps my hand. "Let's go get some breakfast."

I sigh. "Okay."

/

"What d'you think?"

"I think I'm going to feel pretty fat when I'm finished, but it'll be worth it," I say, looking down at my bacon and fried egg bagel. "I never knew they cooked stuff here, I always just get coffee, and sometimes a cookie."

Santana chuckles and takes a bite out of her own bagel. "It _is_ worth it," she mumbles through her mouthful of food, accidently spitting some out. She covers her mouth with her hand and looks around to see if anyone saw. It makes me smile, we're in a corner booth and I doubt anybody is paying attention to us anyway; they're all having their own conversations.

I like it when Santana relaxes like this, sometimes it seems like she's scared to. Like she's worried if she lets her guard down people will see stuff that she doesn't want them to see. It makes me sad because she's hiding all the best parts of herself, all the most beautiful parts; but it also feels kind of good that she seems okay with letting me see them.

"So… are you okay?" she asks out of the blue. I think she was nervous to ask it because she puts down her bagel and starts sipping her coffee without taking her eyes off me. She's got that sniper look again.

"Yeah," I reply and smile.

" _Really?_ "

I scrunch my eyebrows together. "I… yeah. I mean, I guess. I don't…" I sigh because sometimes it's so frustrating not being able to get the right words out. That on top of everything else is making me want to kick myself right now. "I really am sorry about last night," I blurt out.

"Britt, I already said you don't have to-"

"No," I interrupt, "I do have to, I shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry." I shake my head and start sipping on my own coffee.

"Why _did_ you?" It's not accusatory, the way she asks, it's gentle and I think she just really wants to know.

"I don't know," I mumble without looking at her. "I've… wanted to, if I wasn't with Sam, I… I wanted to, _but not like that_." I whisper the last part and hope I haven't said too much. I don't want to put her in an awkward position.

"I've wanted to too," she says. I look at her and she looks away. My heart suddenly feels like it's trying to fly out of my chest. Hearing the person you like say that they like you too is probably the best feeling in the world. It makes me wonder how happy I would feel if things were different, if all that bad stuff hadn't happened yesterday, because even with all that my smile is so big.

"This… This is confusing for me," she continues. "I've never… I used to think people made it up, this feeling, I…" she sighs and shakes her head. "I like you Britt… like, a lot, and I didn't want to, because of Sam. And not because I care about his feelings, honestly with anybody else that wouldn't have stopped me for a second. I'm pretty sure like, half the girls I've hooked up with had boyfriends. But I knew it would bother _you_ ; you have like, morals and stuff." She shrugs and keeps looking down at her coffee cup. "I don't know what to do with this. I don't know how to handle feeling this way, and I know you're not ready either. And I know I shouldn't be telling you all this because I said I'd be your friend and that you can tell me anything and I don't wanna ruin that." She takes a deep breath because I'm pretty sure she said all that without breathing, but she still doesn't look at me. " _Christ, I haven't even known you two weeks,"_ she whispers and shakes her head.

I reach over and take her hand. Her eyes dart around to check if anybody's looking again before she squeezes back and starts rubbing her thumb over my knuckles.

"I've been ignoring the way I feel for a really long time, but I can't with you," I say. It's the only way I can think to explain right now. I want her to know that I feel the same as she does, but I need her to know that I'm still confused. I still have so many things to figure out, like what I'm going to do about Sam. My heart sinks when I think of Sam, when the image of him and Mercedes flashes through my mind. It's like Santana inflated my heart with helium and Sam popped it with a pin.

I look at her and see her eyes looking back at me for the first time since we started talking about this. "Sam," I say and she nods in understanding.

"You need to talk to him," she says.

"I don't know what to say, can you tell me what I should say?" I ask quietly. I know I'll say the wrong thing if it's left up to me because I'm feeling all the wrong things. I should be mad but all I feel is sad and guilty. Santana will know what I should say. She looks at me with the warmest smile and squeezes my hand.

"I can't really tell you what to say, Britt. You just need to decide what it is that you want and tell him, so that you both know where you stand. Do you… want to stay with him?" She looks down again like she doesn't want me to answer. I wish for a second that she could read minds, so that she would know that she doesn't have to worry without me having to find the right words.

"No, but I don't want to be mad at him either."

She smiles and looks back at my face. "Okay." She squeezes my hand again before letting go and starts sipping her coffee. We're silent for a few minutes before she speaks again, and I'm content just sitting with her and watching people bustle around.

"You know, I should probably apologize for last night too," she says.

"What d'you mean?" I ask, my eyebrows scrunching together.

"Well, I should have stopped it. I mean, it was obvious something was wrong, I shouldn't have let it get that far. I guess I wasn't thinking with my brain…"

My eyebrows stay scrunched together for a moment before I realize what she means and they shoot up to my hairline. She smirks from behind her coffee cup.

"Yeah, girls can be like that too ya know…"

/

Santana gives me a ride home when we finish breakfast. I tell her that we should get breakfast again sometime so that I can pay and it makes her smirk at me again.

Now we're pulling onto my street and my heart sinks the same way it did yesterday because I don't want to say goodbye to her. I unclip my seatbelt and pick up my clothes from yesterday, which are in a pile by my feet, and set them on my lap.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asks. "I can come in with you if you don't wanna be on your own."

"I'll be okay, thank you, you've done more than enough for me." I smile at her and she smiles back. "I'll probably call my friend, Tina, see if she wants to hang out," I say, turning my head to look at my building through the car window.

"Okay." She hesitates before she continues, "We're… still friends, right?"

I turn to look at her; I think she's embarrassed because she won't look me in the eye. I lean over to hug her instead of answering. I don't trust my words and I think a hug says enough. She seems like she's expecting it this time because she hugs me back right away.

"Thank you," I mumble into her hair. I resist the urge to kiss her on the cheek as I pull away and get out of the car.

I let myself watch her drive away today. I watch until her car reaches the end of the block and turns around the corner before I head into my building.

As I'm walking up the stairs I start really, really hoping that Sam left the door unlocked when he left. I do _not_ want to have to call him to get the spare key.

I turn the handle on my door and my heart does a little jig inside my chest when it clicks open and I feel kind of relieved to be home when I step inside.

"Britt?" I jump when I hear his voice and twirl around so that my back is to the door.

"Sam?"

He sits up from where he was laying on the couch and looks at me through squinted eyes. He looks a mess, he's still wearing the same clothes he was wearing yesterday and they're all creased, his hair is sticking up in all directions and I don't think he's showered. It also looks like he has a black eye, or at least the start of one.

We just look at each other for a second before I put down the bundle of clothes I'm holding on the floor and start walking towards the couch. I drop down next to him and look down at my feet.

"How come you're still here?" I ask.

"I was waiting for you, I tried calling a bunch of times but you didn't answer," he replies. I can see out of the corner of my eye that he's mirroring the way I'm sitting.

"I left my phone here."

"Oh, I didn't hear it."

"It's still on vibrate, from work." I see him nod and hear him clear his throat.

"Where did you go last night?" His voice shakes a little.

"I stayed at Santana's." I'm surprised at how calm and even my own voice is. I sound kind of like a robot again.

"I thought you were both ignoring me. You wouldn't answer your phones."

"Both?" I say and turn to look at the side of his face. There's definitely a bruise forming around his eye.

"Um… you and Mercedes… I… I," he stutters. "I did wrong by both of you." That kind of stings a little - that he's talking about us like we're the same. _I'm_ his girlfriend. But then, I guess she thought she was his girlfriend too. He turns to look at me. "I'm _so_ sorry Britt, I n-"

"Don't," I interrupt. "Don't apologize, there's no point." He nods and looks away again.

"You're the last person in the world who deserves this, Britt. I never meant for any of this to happen, I swear." His voice is shaking really bad now like he's going to cry.

"I know." I reply. "Do you love her?"

He hesitates and then nods, still looking at the floor. I feel my throat tighten and tears sting my eyes. I know I shouldn't have asked.

"I love you too," he counters quickly, turning to look at me and taking my hands in his. I nod but don't say anything. He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head before continuing. "I'm not trying to make excuses, I know what I did was wrong. I just felt like I was losing you, like we were drifting apart. These past few months we've been more like friends than a couple and I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong."

I don't say anything because I know he wasn't doing anything wrong, it was me. I was acting distant because I felt distant. I feel completely sucker punched by the surge of guilt that bubbles up inside me and before I can think about what I'm doing I lunge at Sam and kiss him.

He immediately kisses me back, letting go of my hands and grabbing my face. I clutch at his shirt and whimper a little. Our kiss is so aggressive and forceful and _wet_ , I think one of us is crying, or maybe both of us.

He pushes me back so my head hits the armrest of the couch and lies on top of me so I feel completely smothered by him; his mouth, his body, his hands, but I can't make myself stop. Maybe I just need to feel close to him again, maybe it can fix this. I wrap my arms around his back, pulling him impossibly tighter against my body and he grunts into my mouth. I can feel our tears mixing together on my cheeks and running down to my lips and they make our kisses taste salty.

I feel his hands suddenly against the bare skin of my stomach and wonder when he moved them there. My top slides up as his fingers run over my chest and suddenly everything feels too tight and too close and too hot. He's trying to take off my tee shirt, _Santana's_ tee shirt, and now all I can think about is _her._

Her kisses made me feel how kisses are _supposed_ to make you feel. And I kissed her because I wanted to, not because I felt guilty or scared. And if I do this with Sam now I'll be breaking the promise that I made to Santana last night.

I try to pull away but my head is already as far back as it can go. Sam pushes himself even harder against me and now I can't breathe at all. I put both of my hands against his shoulders and push him back as he lifts the front of Santana's tee shirt up over my chest, but he barely moves.

"S-m… stop," I mumble against his lips and push him again as hard as I can. He sits up this time, breathless and wide-eyed with tear-stained cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he breathes.

I sit up and pull down my shirt, running my hands over the front of it to smooth out the creases. "It's okay, it was my fault. It just… didn't feel right."

We look at each other and breathe heavily for a moment before I speak again. "Maybe you should go," I say. He looks hurt when I say that, like it was the last thing he expected.

"What… you don't even wanna talk about this?"

"What's there to talk about? We can't be together if you're in love with somebody else, Sam. How would that work?" I'm not sure who those words sting more, me or him. I had to force myself to say them, because I know they're true even if a part of me doesn't want them to be, the part that keeps telling me that I'll be lost without him. It's terrifying, the thought of losing someone who's been there so long.

"I… I don't want to lose you, Britt," he says with fresh tears pooling in his eyes.

"I think you should go," I repeat, a little shakier than the first time.

He waits for a moment before he lets out a sigh and stands. I don't look up as he walks over to the door and opens it. He does it so slowly; I think he's waiting for me to change my mind and I have to force my lips shut to stop myself from calling him back. He lingers in the doorway for a few seconds before he wordlessly leaves and pulls the door closed behind him.

I let myself cry properly after he's gone, there's nobody to hide it from now. My chest feels so tight but hollow at the same time, like there's a hole there that's trying to seal itself up. I hug my arms around my chest to try and stop it collapsing in on itself. I tilt my head down and watch the tears drop and make a wet patch on my jeans – Santana's jeans. I wish she was here now, so she could hug me to sleep like she did last night.

I grab two fistfuls of the material on her tee shirt and bring it up to my face, inhaling deeply and breathing in the scent. It smells like her bed - well I guess it actually smells like her detergent, but her bed smelled of it too and it's comforting.

I let out a shaky breath and let my hands fall to my lap, the tee shirt falls down with them and the cold, stale air of the room hits me again.

I push myself up of the couch and walk over to the front door where my purse is sitting on the floor. I root through it and dig out my phone and drop my purse to the floor again.

_12 missed calls: Sam_

I erase it from the screen as I flop back down onto the couch. What's behind it is even worse, a picture of Sam on our anniversary last year. He's in my kitchen cooking me dinner in his silly _Kiss the Cook_ apron with an even sillier grin on his face. I screw my eyes shut and curl up in a fetal position on the couch. I don't want to be crying when I call Tina, I don't want her to worry, so I wait until I've stopped before I start scrolling through my contacts.

I feel bad calling her at all, but I can't stand the thought of just sitting around my apartment all day thinking about Sam. I need to be around people so that I don't have to think.

I need my best friend.


	9. The Unexpected

_Brittany? Brittanyyy?_

I feel something heavy on my legs and hear somebody singing my name.

"Britt, wake up."

Something grips tightly at my shoulder and starts shaking me. "Brittany!" I squeeze my eyelids even tighter together and try to block her out. I know it's Tina. I always recognize her voice when she calls my name, the same way I recognize my Mom or my brother or Katie. People in your family always say your name differently to everybody else somehow. Maybe it's so you can find them easier if you get lost in a crowd.

Tina has that way of saying my name too.

I groan and smush my face further into the couch, Tina giggles and shakes my shoulder again. "Come on, get up, I have to be somewhere in, like, an hour and we need to get our girl-talk on."

I keep my face buried in the couch and shake my head.

"Okay, you asked for it." I feel sharp pinches on either side of my ribs and start giggling and squirming uncontrollably. I turn my torso to face her because she's still sitting on my legs and bat at Tina's hands to try and get her to stop tickling me.

"Okay!" I squeal. "Okay, I'm up!" I open my eyes just as Tina snatches her hands back, grinning. She shifts so that I can move my legs and I sit up as I try to catch my breath.

"What's this?" she asks and snatches a piece of material I didn't realize I was holding from my hands and holds it at arm's length to look at it. "New clothes?" My heart jolts when I realize what it is: Santana's tee shirt.

After I called Tina I changed shirts so that I could cuddle up with it, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I don't even know _how_ I managed to fall asleep, according to Santana I slept for eighteen hours last night. I'm so stupid; I should have locked the door.

"No I borrowed it," I say. My mouth suddenly feels as dry as a bag of sand.

"From who?" she asks, handing me back the shirt.

"My friend, Santana, you don't know her," I answer, trying to sound casual. I fold up the tee shirt and put it on the coffee table in front of me.

"Oh yeah, the new teacher at your school."

I freeze because I don't remember ever mentioning Santana to Tina; I scrunch my eyebrows together and turn my face to look at her.

"You kept talking about her at the club last week." She shrugs. "She teaches Katie, right?"

"Yeah," I reply, silently cursing myself for getting so drunk that night. I look down and start brushing invisible dirt from Santana's jeans that I'm still wearing just so I have something to do with my hands.

"Why do you have her tee shirt?"

"Oh, I stayed at her place last night." I feel my face get hot and I don't know why. I have a perfectly legitimate reason for staying with Santana last night, it's not like Tina's going to know what really happened. "Actually that's why I called you. I have some stuff to tell you, I guess," I say and turn my face to look at her again.

"Oh, okay. Actually, I'm glad you called; I sort of have some news too. You can go first though."

"No, no, it's okay. You go," I smile. I'm actually pretty relieved she has something to say too, maybe she'll get distracted and I won't have to tell her about Sam at all. I don't really want to talk about it; I just called her because I didn't want to be on my own.

"Okay," she says, smiling nervously. "Well, I was going to wait until I was three months but I just really have to tell someone, and I wanted you to be the first to know." She grabs both of my hands and takes a deep, shuddery breath, her smile growing even bigger. "I'm pregnant."

I feel my eyes bug out before a grin takes over my face. "Oh my God, _pregnant_? Really? With a _baby?"_

She giggles. "Well, yeah."

"Oh my God, Tina, that's so awesome!" I squeal and pull her into a hug. She hugs me back and chuckles into my hair.

I pull back and hold her at arm's length, a dorky grin still plastered on my face. "How pregnant are you? Does Mike know? Is it a boy or a girl? Have you thought of a name yet? 'Cause I have a few ideas," I say without taking a breath. It feels like I'm having a caffeine rush, this is the happiest news _ever_.

"Britt," she laughs, "calm down. I'm about nine weeks so it's too early to tell, and no I'm going to wait until it's been three months. I just want to be sure everything's okay before I tell Mike, he's already stressed out enough about starting this new job. So, it's just our little secret for now." She smiles and winks at me.

If it's possible I grin even wider and pull her into another hug, but softer this time. "Oh Tina, I'm so happy for you." She squeezes me back before I pull away. "I didn't even know you were _trying_ to have a baby."

"Well, it wasn't really planned. But I'm super happy and excited and… kind of terrified - but in a good way." She bites her bottom lip and looks up at me with her face tilted down. "I think Mike will be happy too. I mean, I know he wants kids so…" she says, sounding apprehensive.

"Of course he will," I say, grabbing her hands again. "And don't be scared, you're gonna be amazing parents, both of you. And you know I looked after Katie a lot when she was a baby, so I can help out with stuff and babysit when you need a break." I smile and she squeezes my hands.

"Thanks, Britt. What would I do without you, huh?" She smirks.

I feel myself blushing so I shrug and smile. "Well you probably would've gotten a lot more slushy facials in high school. But other than that I think you'd be okay." I wink and she slaps my arm playfully. Then she pulls me into another, unexpected, hug.

"Seriously though, Britt, thank you. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

I rub the back of her shoulders gently and smile. "No problem."

"Oh and there's something else." She pulls back quickly. "We've got a house." She grins excitedly.

"Already? That was fast."

"Yeah, well, you know Mike's Mom's in real estate? She helped out a lot. I'm actually picking up the keys from her office this afternoon. You wanna come see it?"

"What, the house? Yeah, sure. Wow, anything else you wanna tell me, T?"

She giggles. "Nope, I think that's it."

"Okay, d'ya want some coffee?"

Um, can we have tea?" She pats her tummy gently.

"Oh, right, of course. Wait, _that's_ why you keep being designated driver lately. Sneaky." I poke her gently in the rib and she chuckles and slaps my hand away.

"So, what's _your_ news?" she asks.

Suddenly the color seems to drain from the room and I let out a heavy sigh. I know I'm going to have to tell her, I just don't _want_ to. I want to keep riding high off of how happy I am for Tina, and I don't want to bring her down. All my stuff hardly even seems to matter now that I know she has an actual little baby growing inside her tummy. But there's no way she'll let it go now that I've brought it up. Tina's a worrier, especially when it comes to me.

"Okay, let me make some tea and I'll tell you."

/

"That _motherfu-"_

"Tina!" I interrupt. She stops pacing up and down my tiny kitchen and looks at me. "It's your turn." I gesture towards the half-finished game of connect four on the table in front of me. I thought it might be a good idea to distract her with a game; sometimes Tina can get really mad when she thinks people haven't been nice to me, and I don't want that. Plus I don't think it's good for pregnant ladies to get stressed out. I can't help but feel all warm and happy every time I think about Tina's baby.

"Why are you smiling?" she asks as she takes a seat opposite me again with her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Because you're pregnant." I smile even bigger and take a sip from my cup of tea.

"Britt." She rolls her eyes. "This isn't a joke."

"I know that," I say softly.

"Please say you told him where to go…"

"We broke up I think."

"You _think_?"

"We _did._ " I nod quickly. I'm pretty sure we did.

"Okay, good." She lets out a heavy sigh. "I'm so sorry, Britt. God, what an _asshole_. How _are_ you? I mean like, are you okay? I know that's a stupid question. I just…"

"I'm fine." I give her a reassuring smile. It's not exactly true, but I know what happened is for the best and that I _will_ be fine, and there's no need to worry her for no reason.

"Britt, your boyfriend of six years _cheated_ on you. It's okay to be mad or upset or… _something,_ " she sighs.

"I know, I just… I'm okay, Tina. I promise." I offer her a smile. "I think it's been coming for a while." I start sipping at my tea again. I'm not sure if that was too much to say or not. I don't want her to start asking questions about why. I know I'll tell her one day, just not today. I'm not ready.

"What, you knew he was gonna cheat on you?" she asks with her brow furrowed.

"No, but…" I let out a heavy breath. "I… I wasn't happy." I feel my tummy start trembling as the words leave my mouth. I think that's the first time I've said or thought about it that way. It didn't really seem important. I feel my eyebrows scrunch together.

"What d'you mean? You weren't happy with Sam?" Tina asks. She looks almost as confused as I feel.

I shake my head. "I love him, I just… It wasn't working out." I shrug.

"Why? And _why_ didn't you tell me? Jeez, I knew something was up with you lately," Tina says, shaking her head. I feel super guilty now, why do people always worry the most when I'm trying my best to get them to _not_ worry?

"I don't know." _Lie._ "It's complicated, but I'm okay. You don't have to be worried." I smile at her.

She sighs again and doesn't say anything for at least a couple of minutes. I look at her while she refuses to make eye contact with me. She keeps opening her mouth and closing it again, like she can't decide what to say.

"How is it complicated?" she asks finally, before looking back at me. I can feel myself starting to get panicked and flustered. I wonder how long we have until we have to leave to pick up Tina's keys so that this conversation can be over. "Look, don't get me wrong, Britt. I was never Sam's biggest fan, but I thought you were happy so I didn't say anything. And now you're telling me you weren't, I just… I could've helped." She starts shaking her head again. "You should've told me," she almost whispers.

Knowing Tina's been feeling this way is like a slap in the face. I only didn't tell her stuff because I knew she would think it was Sam's fault if I did. I wouldn't have been able to explain that it wasn't without telling her things I didn't want to tell her.

Something starts bubbling up inside me that's too big and too scary to understand. I feel so guilty that Tina's been worried about me all this time even though I thought I'd put her mind at rest when we talked in her car last week. I feel frustrated that I can't just tell the truth about everything, because she's my best friend and she thinks I tell her everything and dammit, I _should_ tell her everything. But most of all I feel mad; so, so mad that everything just seems to go bad whenever I try to make it okay.

And all these bad things are because of something that shouldn't even _matter._

My hands start trembling so I set my mug down on the table and then I swallow all these big, confusing feelings back down in one, giant gulp. It even sort of works.

"I know, but everything's going to be okay now." I look her in the eye and nod. I'm not sure if it's true but I need Tina to think it's true. Then she can just think about her baby and her new house with Mike and all the good, happy things that are happening. I smile again when I think about it because if your best friend getting all the things they want and deserve isn't a reason to smile, I don't know what is.

It seems to reassure her a little because I see a tiny smile tugging at her lips. "Okay," she says. She sounds resigned rather than accepting but I guess that's enough for now. Then her forehead creases like she's confused or something. "Oh my God, you slept with him didn't you?"

I feel my brow furrow. "Sam? Well… yeah, of course. He was my boyf-"

"No, no, no." She waves her hand to get me to stop talking. "You have a hickey on your neck." She leans forward and tries to brush my hair aside but I slap my hand to my neck before she can look properly. I don't even know if my hand is over the right spot, I didn't know I _had_ a hickey. It's a reflex because I'm pretty it wasn't Sam who gave it to me. "You slept with him after you found out, didn't you? That's why you're acting weird. Jeez, Britt. What were you thinking?"

"What? No! No, I didn't. This is old." I feel like my lungs are being crushed inside a vice right now. I have no idea if that even sounded believable or not. And then my heart sinks because up until now, even though I haven't been actually telling the truth, I also haven't lied.

Now I understand what people mean when they talk about _white lies._ I always thought a lie was just a lie, but telling Tina that hickey was old even though I knew it wasn't feels a whole lot different than telling Rachel she looks nice even when she wears those old lady sweaters. Or that one time Katie walked in on me and Sam when I was home for spring break and I told her he was just teaching me how to wrestle.

"It looks pretty fresh to me," she argues. I sigh.

"Come on, don't we have to go get your new house keys or something?"

She's silent for a few seconds before her shoulders slump and she gives me a defeated, "Okay," before standing up. I watch her as she picks up her mug and then mine and puts them in the sink.

"Are you mad?" I ask. "I promise I didn't sleep with Sam."

She doesn't say anything at first, she just keeps facing away from me, and for a moment I think she's not going to answer.

"I believe you." She turns to look at me and gives me a little smile. I get up and walk over to her, my chair scraping against the floor as I stand, and give her a hug.

"Stop being sad, today is a happy day," I mumble into her hair. I feel her chest rumble with a tiny, silent laugh and it makes me smile.

Tina pulls away first. "Come on, let's go see my new house," she says.

I grin as wide as my face and bounce on the balls of my feet as I follow her out of the room.

/

The car journey is uncomfortable to say the least; Tina barely says anything on our way to pick up the keys, then when we start driving to the house she goes completely silent. I keep trying to start conversations with her but every time I ask her something she just gives me the shortest answer possible. I eventually give up trying.

Once we've been driving for about half an hour I start getting kind of freaked out, and not just by Tina's silent treatment. Lima isn't exactly big and I'm starting to think this house might be little further away than I would like.

The streets get quieter and quieter as the houses get bigger and bigger and it's so different to the part of town I live in; where it's always noisy and there are more stores and restaurants than actual homes.

"The house _is_ in Lima, right?" I ask.

"Yeah," she chuckles. "It's in West Lima, we're almost there." She glances at me quickly and smiles before looking back at the road. I feel a pressure on my chest - that I didn't even know was there - release and I relax back in my seat. I thought Tina was mad at me or something, but maybe she was just trying to concentrate on finding the house. She probably hasn't been there that many times.

"Quinn lives in West Lima," I tell her. I'm so happy she's talking to me like normal again; I kind of want her to keep doing it.

"Yeah? Makes sense," she mutters.

"What d'you mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Just, she always strikes me as the spoilt, rich girl type that's all." She shrugs.

"She's nice," I say. Quinn's family is rich but that doesn't mean she's spoilt. She has a really good job and I'm pretty sure she pays for her own stuff. I was with her when she bought her car, it's red and super fast.

"You think everyone's nice," she counters. I scrunch my eyebrows together and open my mouth but she talks again before I can say anything, "don't worry, it's why I love you." She punches me on the shoulder because Tina is incapable of saying anything like that without following it up with a punch or a shove or a comment about how lame we're being. It makes me giggle.

We finally pull into a driveway on a particularly quiet, well-kept street lined with particularly big, well-kept houses. I hear the gravel crunch and crackle under the car tyres as we slow to a stop – I've always liked that sound.

"Here we are," says Tina, shutting off the engine and swinging the driver's side door open. I follow suit and climb out of the car too.

My jaw drops when I look at the house properly for the first time. It's so big and fancy-looking; there are even little columns on either side of the front door.

We start walking up the deliberately uneven stony path towards the front door. The gravelly driveway is on one side of us and on the other side is a huge expanse of grass, stretching from the front of the house to the sidewalk, that looks like it's been maintained to within an inch of its life. It's lined with flowerbeds and shrubbery and I swear the sun actually shines brighter on this street than it does in the rest of Lima.

All that's missing is a white picket fence.

"This is so nice," I say under my breath as I take everything in.

"I know, right." I snap my attention back to Tina. She's standing on the front porch with the door open, smirking at me, and I realize I'm stopped in the middle of the path, just looking around with my mouth hanging open. "You should probably see inside before you give me your final opinion, though."

I walk briskly up to the front porch and follow her into the house. It's completely empty but it's still beautiful. There's an entrance hall when you first walk in and a spiral staircase; the hand-rail looks like it would be really fun to slide down.

It's not a mansion or anything, but it's not like a normal house either. It's a mini-mansion. It's perfect, and I haven't even seen it properly yet. I just know Tina and Mike and their little baby are going to be so happy here.

"It's awesome," I tell her, "but how can you afford this? Mike only just got the job…"

"Like I said, his parents helped us out a lot," she shrugs, "come on, I'll show you the living room." She grabs my hand and leads me through a door to our left. Our footsteps echo really loud off of the hardwood floor around the empty space as we walk.

The living room is huge; and it has a real, proper fireplace. It reminds me of the one my Grandma had when I was little, before she had to move into sheltered accommodation - except this one is way bigger and has all gold-plated stuff stuck to it. I used to love watching the flames when we went to visit her, they could have me hypnotized for hours.

Then the big, beautiful sash window at the front of the room catches my attention. It overlooks the front yard and the rest of the street and I walk over and stare out of it for a moment. I can just imagine Tina sitting in one of those big comfy armchairs in a few years' time, watching her little boy or girl playing outside with their friends. This looks like a nice neighbourhood for kids to grow up in.

"You remember Miss Reynholm who used to live down the street from you when we were kids?" I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on the street outside. Tina snorts and comes and stands beside me.

"Yeah, nosey old spinster. Gosh, I haven't seen her in years, what made you think of her?"

I shrug. "I dunno, just thinking you could do some serious nosy-neighbour-peeking out of this window."

She giggles a little. "Yeah, this does seem like one of _those_ kinds of streets, I'm pretty sure I saw some curtains twitching when we got out of the car."

I turn to face her and point to her belly. "Maybe there are other people with babies who live here, and little baby Chang will have lots of friends to play with." I smile playfully and she giggles again.

"Maybe. Actually, I think I've decided what room I want for the nursery already. You wanna see it?"

"Yeah." I grin.

Tina leads me up the spiral staircase and into a room at the back of the house. I'm pretty sure we walk past at least six doors to get there. "How many rooms does this place have?" I ask as she leads me into the brightly-lit, empty bedroom. I think it's so bright because the window is so big.

"Four bedrooms, three bathrooms – but one of those is the en-suite for the master bedroom, one living room, one dining room and a kitchen." She counts the rooms off on her fingers and nods when she's done.

"Wow." I nod back.

"So I thought maybe the bassinet could go here, under the window." She gestures with her arms where she thinks it should go. "'Cause, like… I hear some scientists are saying sunlight is good for you now or something." She smirks.

I smile and follow her over to where she's standing. "Yeah I think it would look good there."

"And I thought maybe I could get a rocking chair or something too, and we could paint the walls pink or blue when we find out if it's a girl or a boy."

"Are you going to find out the sex before it's born?"

"I don't know, I'd like to. I guess I'll have to talk it over with Mike." She shrugs and I nod.

I step closer to the window and look out over the back yard which is just as beautiful and manicured as the front. More flowerbeds and shrubs flanking an even bigger lawn, a respectable sized pool sits in the middle, and I can just make out a patio as I press my face up against the window.

"Awesome, you have a pool," I say and turn back to Tina.

"Yeah, I guess we'll have to put a fence around it or something for when the baby starts walking," she says and I giggle a little.

"You have a little while before you have to worry about stuff like that, T."

"Yeah I know but-"

She's interrupted by the sound of my cell phone ringing inside my purse. I fumble around inside for a second before I find it. "Sorry," I mumble.

"That's okay." She steps towards the window and looks out over the backyard.

I turn my back to her and glance down at my phone and my heart skips a beat when I see Santana's name flashing across the screen. I quickly turn my head towards Tina before I answer and I don't know why it makes me feel better that she's not looking at me – it's not like she can't still _hear_ me.

"Hello," I answer, I sound a little breathless so I clear my throat.

" _Hey…Um…sorry to bother you."_

"You're not bothering me," I tell her quickly. There's no way she could ever bother me.

" _Okay…"_ She chuckles nervously. " _Um, I know I only saw you this morning, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay and stuff."_

"Yeah, of course. I'm fine." I smile to emphasize my point even though she can't see me.

" _Okay… good. Did you call your friend?"_

I love it when she sounds all nervous like this. I mean, I don't like her _being_ nervous - but I think it's super cute.

"Yeah, I'm with her right now."

" _Okay, that's good. I felt kind of bad, leaving you by yourself. It didn't seem right."_

"You shouldn't feel bad about anything, you were awesome." I hear her let out a sharp breath, like she's stifling a laugh.

" _I don't know about that, but I'm glad you're okay."_

I smile again, but then we lapse into an uncomfortable silence. I think it's uncomfortable because we're on the phone and talking is the main thing that you're supposed to do on the phone. I want to say something, so bad, but I'm not sure what, and I'm suddenly very aware that I'm not alone in this room.

" _Okay, well I'll let you get back to your friend,"_ she says finally and I'm both relieved and disappointed that the conversation is ending.

"All right, thanks for calling and… everything else and stuff," I mumble. I hear another stifled laugh on the other end of the line and it makes me smile.

" _You're welcome. Um, you know if you need anything I… well…"_ She sighs. " _You know."_

"Yeah, thanks. I… I guess I'll see you at work?"

" _Yeah. Um, Britt?"_

"Yeah?"

She pauses. "… _Never mind. I'll see you Monday."_

"Okay, bye."

" _Bye."_

She hangs up first and I take the phone away from my ear and stare at the screen for a moment. I feel like I should have said something more, but I guess I couldn't with Tina in the room.

I turn around and I'm a little startled to find her standing a lot closer than she was before, staring right at me.

"Who was that?" she asks quietly.

"Oh, just a friend." I shrug. "Santana from work. I told you I stayed with her last night, she was just checking to see if I was okay." My words climb over each other a little. _Everything I just said was true. I'm not lying to her. It's okay._

She nods slowly and keeps staring at my face. It's making me super uncomfortable, but I know that if I look away or move she'll _know_ I'm uncomfortable and wonder why. So I watch her as she pinches her bottom lip between her thumb and her pointer finger while her eyes keep studying my face.

After a few moments she lets go of her lip and lets out a heavy sigh. "She's the one who gave you that isn't she?" She points to my neck and I feel every last breath of air get sucked out of my lungs. I slap my hand to my neck again for some reason. My eyes are wide and I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out, so I just shake my head. I'm not shaking it to say _no,_ I don't really know why I'm shaking it.

I want to deny what she just said, but I don't want to lie again. Maybe saying nothing is the best thing to do.

"I know she did, Britt. You kept talking about her non-stop at the club last week, and when I came over to your place you were sleeping with her shirt. And you stayed at her place last night and now you have that hickey. _Oh my God_." She covers her mouth with her hand and turns away from me.

"Tina," I manage to say but nothing comes after. Probably because I know she's right.

"Were you cheating on Sam with her? Is that why you weren't happy with him?" she asks, turning back to me. She seems more upset than mad and I don't understand.

"No! I would never do that…" My voice is shaking; I can't help but feel like I've pretty much just admitted everything.

"But she _did_ give you that?" She points to my neck again and I drop my hand to my side and nod. My chest feels so tight and I can feel my heart throbbing in my ears. This is so much bigger and scarier than when I told Santana stuff. Tina is like my family. "Did you… sleep with her?" She lets out a disbelieving chuckle after she asks it.

I shake my head. "No." It comes out really raspy because I can't breathe properly.

"You need to tell me what's going on, Britt," she says quietly, ducking her head close to mine. "I need you to stop keeping secrets from me, that's not how we work." She sounds hurt and guilt mixes itself into the ever-growing jumble of feelings swimming around inside of me. "What's going on with you two?"

"I don't know yet," I say. She nods slowly again.

"But there is _something_ going on?"

I gulp and nod again. My eyes shoot down to the floor because I can't look at her face anymore. I hear her sigh loudly.

"Is she the first girl you've thought about that way?"

"Uh… s-she," I stutter. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath to calm myself. The air feels good in my lungs; it makes my chest feel a little less tight. "She's the first girl I've like _this much_ …"

"But you _have_ liked girls before?"

I hesitate and nod _yes._ She sighs again.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" she asks. She sounds sad and exasperated and it makes me want to hug her. Now probably isn't the best time for that, though. I don't answer because I don't know how and then I feel her put one hand on my shoulder and tilt my chin up gently with the other. "What did you think I would do, huh?"

I shrug my shoulders and look away from her face towards the window. "Have you told _anybody_?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No, just Santana," I half whisper.

"Okay," she says, taking her hand away from my chin. "Why not?"

I look at her again now. "How _could_ I, Tina? I mean… Ryan... Can you imagine what it would have done to my family? My _Mom?_ " My voice starts trembling and I feel tears stinging my eyes. "I couldn't do that to her." I start wiping frantically at my face as the tears start falling.

"Oh, Britt." She pulls me into a tight hug. "You're so silly," she whispers into my hair. She rubs her hands up and down my back. "It's okay," she keeps saying.

She pulls back when I've managed to stop sniffling and cups my face with her hands. She wipes some tears away from my face with her thumbs and smiles at me, but it doesn't reach her eyes. I feel terrible. I don't want anyone to worry about me, but especially not her. She has a baby and a new house to think about now.

"I'm okay, T. I promise." I offer her a small smile but my lips are still trembling.

"Yeah, but you're not. Look, I know the whole thing with Ryan is kind of weird and complicated but… you didn't have to keep it a secret all this time and make yourself unhappy. Jeez, Britt. You're so silly. I wish you would have told me," she says, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep it a secret. I just didn't really know how to say stuff."

"Yeah…" She sighs. "I guess I can understand that." She takes her hands away from my face. "Maybe Sam did you a favor, huh?" she says. I shrug at her and she bops me on the nose. It makes me smile a little.

"You're not like…" I look away from her. "Weirded out by me now, right?" I ask. She tilts my chin up with her hand again.

"What kind of a friend would I be if I was, huh?" she says. I smile properly at that. "Come on," she takes my hand and begins leading me out of the room. "Let me show you the rest of the house."

/

We don't say much on the drive back to my place. I don't want to push Tina to say anything because I know she's probably still processing what happened earlier. So I don't say anything unless she says something first.

It feels so much better than I thought it would, her knowing. I feel kind of silly for not telling at least her before now.

"So, this Santana… is she hot?" she says all of a sudden when we're about five minutes away from home. My eyes bug out and I turn my face towards the passenger side window.

"I… uh." I guess the simple answer is _yes,_ but she's so much more than that. I don't think I could even put it into words. And I don't think I'm ready to be _that_ open about this with Tina yet. "I guess," I choke out. I chance a look at her face and she's smirking.

"You _guess_? That doesn't sound very promising…"

"Tina," I warn. I get it – she's trying to let me know how okay she is with this, but it's just making me feel flustered and embarrassed and I really want to talk about something else.

"Okay, okay, I was just saying." She winks at me quickly and goes back to being silent for the rest of the journey.

We both sigh heavily when we pull up outside my building; I guess today was a little exhausting for both of us. I unclip my seatbelt but Tina puts her hand on my elbow and holds me still before I can say goodbye and get out of the car.

"You're okay, right?" she asks. I nod and smile at her. "Britt, promise me you'll never keep anything like this to yourself again, okay? You can talk to me about anything, I thought you knew that." She sounds so worried and I grab her hand that's still on my elbow and squeeze it tightly.

"I know… I've been really stupid. I won't keep any more secrets, I promise." I nod firmly to make sure she knows how serious I'm being.

"You weren't _stupid_ , you were scared. I get it. Just don't keep stuff from _me_ , okay? You had me really worried."

"Okay," I agree. We both lean in for a hug at the same time. "I love you, T," I mumble.

"Gross," she replies, and I giggle as I pull away from her. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. Hey, we should go like, baby shopping or something when you know if it's a boy or a girl," I say.

She smiles at that. "Definitely."

I get out of the car and wave at her and she honks the horn as she drives away.

I feel like I'm floating as I walk up the stairs towards my apartment. The way Tina reacted, and how it feels now that she knows – it's such a relief. It makes me feel light and carefree and like maybe one day it will be okay to tell everybody.

I frown when I get to my front door and notice there's a piece of paper tacked to it; sometimes my landlord leaves notes on my door if I forget to pay my rent. I'm pretty sure I paid it this month though. I unfold the piece of paper and read what's written inside.

It's definitely not from my landlord.

_Brittany,_

_I'm sorry, I just need a break._

_I know you'll do a good job,_

_Mom_

I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion, _good job at what_? And I can't believe I missed my Mom, she never comes to visit me. I could kick myself. If she'd have called first I would have stayed home and waited for her and made coffee and sandwiches. I would have gone store and bought that special decaf stuff that she likes.

I unlock the door and walk in, screwing the piece of paper up in my fist and dropping it in the little waste paper basket on the floor next to me.

I switch the light on and feel my heart jump up into my throat when I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I swivel around to face the couch just as Katie sits up; she rubs her eyes with one hand and then squints at me, clutching her favorite teddy bear in the other.

"Britt-Britt?"

I glance around the room and notice some of Katie's toys strewn across the floor; the couch is surrounded by bags and I think I understand what that note meant now.

"Yeah, sweetie. I'm here."


	10. Offers You Can't Refuse

_Brittany,_

_I'm sorry, I just need a break._

_I know you'll do a good job,_

_Mom_

I fish the note out of the wastepaper basket and read it again because I'm pretty sure I must have read it wrong **.** I do that all the time - confuse things. Plus there is no way my Mom would just leave Katie with me, she loves her. She loves all of her kids, and she's the best Mom in the world. And even when she gets sad sometimes, Richard is always there. _No_ , this isn't what it looks like.

But then, what _is_ it?

"Britt-Britt, why were you gone so long?" Katie asks, squinting at me through tired eyes. She's still clutching her teddy bear tightly to her chest.

"What do you mean, Katie-kins?" I'm trying way too hard to sound cheerful and she probably knows it. Kids know when something isn't right.

I walk over to the couch and drop down next to her. She immediately leans into me and I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on top of her head. I can smell her kids' ' _No Tangles –_ _No Tears'_ shampoo and it reminds me of when she was really little and I used to bath her. I would make her laugh by putting her bubble-bath on my face like a beard and pretending to be an old man.

"How long were you waiting?" I ask.

" _Really_ long. Mommy said you were coming home soon." Her little voice is still kind of sleepy and groggy and I wonder how long she was actually here. She had time to sleep _and_ be awake long enough to know I was gone a long time. I try to force down the guilt and panic that's threatening to boil over inside me at how scared she must have been, waiting here all by herself.

"I'm sorry, sweetie; I didn't know you were here yet," I say and sigh because I'm already going along with this lie that my Mom cooked up. Does that make me as bad as her? Then I try to stop thinking Mom is bad because I'm still not exactly sure what's going on.

"Where _is_ Mommy? Did she tell you?" I ask her. I feel her shrug her shoulders.

"She said she's going on vacation and I'm gonna stay with you while she's gone," she tells me. I screw my eyes shut and hug Katie tighter as my heart sinks at the confirmation.

She really did leave us.

My chest constricts with panic and sadness and disappointment and I have to try so hard not to cry. I cling to Katie as tightly as I can without suffocating her.

When the urge to cry has eased off a little, I open my eyes and look around us, at the bags at our feet and the toys strewn across the floor. There aren't actually that many. I think it looks like more because there isn't much floor space to begin with. There's an _Etch-a-Sketch_ , a couple more stuffed animals and a _Barbie_ doll that's seen better days.

"Is this everything you brought with you? Are there more toys in the bags?" My voice is thick and strained and oddly high from trying to sound fine.

Katie leans back and looks at me before shaking her head. "No, it's just clothes. And I have my crayons and coloring books in my backpack." She pulls away from me and reaches behind her, picking up her _Hello Kitty_ backpack, that I've only just noticed was on the couch too, and setting it on her lap. I look at my watch- it's just after six-thirty.

"Okay, well we can go to the house tomorrow and we'll get some more of your stuff. Have you had dinner? Are you hungry?" She just keeps looking down and shakes her head. "Is that a _no_ , you haven't had dinner? Or a _no_ you're not hungry?" I smile and bump her shoulder but it doesn't make her smile back.

"I haven't had dinner." Her voice is so clipped and flat that it scares me.

"Okay," I say, way too cheerful again. "I'll make you some food. C'mon." I stand up so fast it gives me head rush and extend my hand out for Katie to take. "Bring your crayons and stuff."

She grabs her backpack and puts it on properly before taking my hand.

I set Katie up at the kitchen table with one of her coloring books. I have to put a cushion under her butt so that she's the right height, and then I start searching through my cupboards for food. I let out a heavy sigh when all I find is a bunch of condiments and a stale, half-eaten loaf of bread.

I don't fare much better with the fridge, and I'm so frustrated by the time I get to the freezer that I almost jump for joy when I open it and find a single-serve mac and cheese meal, that I don't even remember buying, sitting alone on the middle shelf.

I shove it in the microwave and turn to Katie as we wait for it to cook. "Do you want a drink?" I ask her.

"Can I have apple juice?" she asks, dropping her crayon and turning the top half of her body to look at me.

"I only have water right now, is that okay?" She just shrugs in response and goes back to coloring.

I fill a glass with water from the faucet and set it in front of her.

"I'm sorry. We can go buy some food and stuff tomorrow too," I tell her as I fiddle with a lock of her still baby-soft hair. "We can get all your favorite things." I'm desperate to see her smile. She's never been this lukewarm with me before and it's freaking me out.

"Okay," she replies and nods without looking up. It makes me so antsy, I want her to smile or laugh or bug me to play a game with her or something.

Before I get a chance to think about it more the microwave pings, so I busy myself with putting the mac and cheese in a bowl and finding the special pink, plastic fork I keep especially for Katie when she comes over – not that she has in a long time.

"Here you go, sweetie." I hold the bowl in front of her and she unceremoniously pushes all of her coloring stuff out of the way so that I can put it on the table next to her glass of water.

I take a seat opposite her as she starts shovelling food into her mouth as if she hasn't eaten in weeks. I lean on the table with my elbows and rest my chin on my clasped hands as I watch her eat.

My mind is going a million miles a minute; I'm still in shock that this is actually happening. And now I'm starting to realize how unequipped I am to deal with it. My apartment is tiny, and Katie is used to having her own room. Now she's going to have to share a bed with me. I know my bed is big enough to share but it's not ideal. And I can't even afford to support myself right now; how am I supposed to support a kid too?

That's why I don't have any food, and why my health insurance expired. _Crap_ , do I have to pay for Katie's health insurance now? Do kids get free health insurance? I'm pretty sure they don't. I really should _know_ this stuff.

I sigh, frustrated and pinch the bridge of my nose. Maybe I can get a second job, like in the evening or on weekends or something. But then, who will look after Katie while I'm working?

I guess I could ask Tina to babysit, she might want the practice, and she won't be at college or work in the evenings or on Saturdays. _Wait_ , is she even going to carry on with that stuff now that she's got the new house and is having a baby? I probably should have asked her earlier.

"Britt-Britt?" Katie calls quietly from across the table. I look up and take my hands away from my face just as she takes a sip of water. The glass looks so big in her little hand and it makes me smile.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" she asks, setting the glass back down. I smile even bigger because it's so cute, the way she says it.

"Yeah, of course," I reply. "Are _you_ okay?" She nods and goes back to eating her food. "Is the mac and cheese okay?"

She nods again and covers her mouth with her hand before she speaks. "Yeah it's my favorite." She focuses all her attention on scooping up another forkful.

"Mine too," I tell her. "Hey, do have any paper in here?" I gesture towards her backpack which is still on the table between us. She just nods without looking up.

I unzip it and pull out a piece of light green construction paper and grab the crayon closest to me; purple. I figure the best way to stop feeling so overwhelmed will be to make a list. Maybe everything will seem less big and scary if I can fit it all onto a piece of paper.

"What are you doing?" Katie asks as I start scribbling words in big, loopy handwriting. Something about using a crayon and construction paper to do this makes me feel like I have to make it pretty.

"Making a list," I answer. I smile but don't look up.

"Like Santa?"

I smile even bigger. "Yeah, just like Santa."

When I'm done I put down the crayon and hold the piece of paper up to admire my own handiwork. I was right; it doesn't really look like that much at all when it's written down like this.

_Things to do:_

_Buy food_

_Go get Katie's stuff_

_Get another job_

_Ask Tina to be babysitter_

_Call people_

I thought of that last one as I was writing the others. I really do need to call people, like Richard, because maybe he knows what's going on with my Mom. And Ryan, our brother, I should probably call him too so he knows what's going on. And maybe I should even try calling my Mom, or maybe she'll be at home when I go to the house tomorrow. I didn't even think of that; what if she hasn't gone anywhere? And she just said that to Katie so that she didn't think she was leaving her for no reason.

I want to talk to her, so badly. I want her to know that she didn't have to lie or run away or be scared, and I want her to know that I'm not mad. I just want to help, if I'd known things were so bad I would have _happily_ offered to take Katie for a while. I love spending time with her and I want my Mom to be okay.

"How long is Mommy gonna be on vacation?" Katie snaps me out of my daze. I fold up my list and set in on the table in front of me as I try to think of an answer. What am I supposed to say? I have no idea how long our Mom will be _on vacation_ for.

"I'm not sure, Katie-kins. But we're gonna have fun together, right?" I offer her a false grin that she probably sees right through. She just nods.

"I'm done," she says and drops her fork in her bowl.

/

"Brittany!"

_WHUMP!_

"Wake up!"

I crack my eyes open and see Katie standing over me on my bed and holding a pillow. She goes to hit me again but I grab the pillow and use it to pull her down on top of me. I tickle her and she starts squealing and squirming in my arms. It makes me laugh; a deep, chest-rumbling, belly-laugh - one that I almost don't recognize coming from my own lips.

"Ss-top!" she squeaks and I relent because tickling is horrible if it goes on for too long. She rolls out of my arms, gasping and red-faced with a smile on her face.

I feel so happy right now, her waking me up like that is definitely a good sign. I barely slept last night because I was so worried about how she was acting.

After dinner we curled up in bed together and watched _Shrek_ on my laptop; it's probably one of the only times my taste in movies has come in handy. She still didn't talk much other than to ask me why she couldn't go _with_ Mommy on her vacation.

I really couldn't think of an answer for that so I just kissed the top of her head and told her to watch the movie in the gentlest, nicest way I could.

But now it almost seems like she doesn't remember; she's grinning at me and bouncing up down on the mattress on her knees. I sit up cross-legged and rub the sleep from my eyes.

"Can you get Sam to come over and build me a fort?"

My hands still and then drop to my lap as soon as the words leave her mouth. Sam was always so good with Katie. On the rare occasions she came over he would spends hours playing with her, he was always so patient and sweet. Last time, he built her the most awesome fort I've ever seen; he used every single blanket, sheet, comforter, cushion and chair in my apartment. The three of us squeezed inside and ate a whole tub of ice cream between us and had a _Pixar_ marathon on my laptop. At the time my heart felt so full it could burst, but now the memory just makes it feel hollow.

"Not today, sweetie," I tell her. She pouts. "We have stuff to do, remember?" I say and poke her in the belly. She squirms and smiles. "Are you okay watching a movie while I take a shower?" She nods and smiles again.

After I've showered I draw a bath for Katie and leave her to play in there while I make my phone calls. I figure it's better she doesn't hear me talking about stuff and I don't want her to know our Mom lied or think that I don't want her here.

I try my Mom first and I'm not surprised when she doesn't answer. I'm a little more surprised when Richard doesn't answer though. I'm finding it really hard not to be mad at him through all of this, where _is_ he? And why didn't he help my Mom? He knows she gets sad sometimes, he should have helped her.

Then I feel a little guilty for thinking that because sometimes people make it really hard for you to help them, even if you want to more than anything.

I start getting really frustrated when Ryan doesn't answer either. I know it's not his fault; he's at nursing school and he works weird hours, but I need him, or _someone._ I need somebody to watch Katie while I go do all the stuff on my list, it'll make it a lot easier. Plus if my Mom is at home it would probably be better for Katie not to see her. I would just call Tina, but I know she's at work.

I scroll through my contacts until I come to Santana's name and hesitate. I want to call her so badly, I trust her and I know Katie does too. But is it really fair, asking her to help me with this? I close my eyes as I hit the call button and tell myself in my head that this is the right thing to do. Katie needs to feel safe and secure right now, and I'm pretty sure her actual teacher is like, the best babysitter you could possibly get.

" _Hello?"_

"Hey, um. Good morning."

" _Good morning,"_ she replies. She sounds confused but I can also hear the smile in her voice.

"Um…" _Crap_ , I should have planned what I was going to say before I called because she always makes my brain go fuzzy.

" _Britt? Is everything okay?"_

"Yeah, um. Well, actually… no, I guess. I sort of need your help. But you don't have t-"

" _I'll be right over."_ The line goes dead and I'm left staring wide-eyed at my phone's screen. Did that really just happen?

"Brittany! I wanna get out now!" Katie calls out from the bathroom and distracts me from having to decide which emotion I should be feeling after that phone call.

/

"So, she just _left?_ " Santana asks, dropping the note from my Mom on the coffee table. She turns her body a little to look at me and her knees brush against mine. My couch feels a lot smaller, somehow, with her on it. Her eyes are so soft it makes me want to sink into them.

I look quickly up at Katie before I respond; I queued up another movie for her on my laptop so that Santana and I could talk without her hearing. She's watching it now on my bed, all snuggled up in blankets. She looks happy enough, but it doesn't stop me looking up to check on her every five minutes.

"Yeah, I think so," I reply. She reaches over and starts rubbing her hand up and down my arm, shoulder to elbow and back up again. It makes me want to close my eyes.

"Britt…" She lets out a heavy breath. "I'm so sorry. That's… That's really, really bad." She pauses before continuing but she doesn't stop rubbing my arm. "How much does Katie know?"

"She thinks my Mom's on vacation." I shrug.

"And she left her here by herself?" she asks, her voice gentle and completely void of judgement. It's like she knows I'm not mad at my Mom so she's not mad either. I nod in response.

She takes her hand back and I immediately miss the contact. "Well I'm here, okay? Whatever you need… I'm here," she says and holds eye contact until I nod again.

"I just need somebody to watch Katie while I do the stuff on my list, but you don't have to. I mean, if you can't, if you have plans or wh-"

"Britt, that's fine. That's totally fine," she interrupts, "what list?"

"Oh." I lean forward and grab the piece of paper off of the coffee table, where I'd put it before bed last night. "Here." I hand it to Santana.

She unfolds it and smiles briefly before her brow furrows. "Get another job? Are you leaving work?"

"No, no." I shake my head. "Like, an _extra_ job, on weekends or in the evenings or something." I shrug. She mouths an _oh_ and her eyes flick back to the list before she folds it up and sets it back on the coffee table.

"Are you getting Katie's stuff from your Mom's house?"

"Yeah."

She seems to consider my answer for a moment before she speaks again. "I think I should go with you," she says, and gives me a little smile.

"But, what if my M-"

"We'll wait in the car while you go in. You're going to need a car if you're picking stuff up and getting groceries, right?"

I open my mouth to protest but then stop, she actually has a point. It's not like I can carry everything home on the bus.

"Right," I reply.

She covers my hand with her own on my knee. It makes my heart flutter and I look at her face and smile because she's already smiling at me. I'm so glad she just understands everything without me having to explain and find the right words. And I'm so glad she's here, she makes bad things seem so much lighter and easier to deal with. She told me she would help me carry things and that's exactly what she's doing.

I open my mouth to thank her but I'm interrupted.

"Brittany, I'm hungry. What's for breakfast?" Katie calls out from the bed. Santana snatches her hand away from mine but doesn't stop looking at me.

I close my eyes briefly and sigh as soon as Katie's words register.

" _I don't have any food,_ " I whisper, just loud enough for Santana to hear me. I was embarrassed to say it with my eyes open. I probably seem so out of my depth. I open them just as Santana turns her head to look at Katie.

"We'll go to the drive-thru on the way to your house, okay?" she tells her. It's the chirpiest I've ever heard her voice and it makes me smile a little.

"Okay," says Katie, and she goes back to watching her movie.

When Santana turns back to me she puts her hand on mine again and squeezes. "Don't worry, Britt. We'll figure everything out."

And she sounds so certain when she says it that I believe her.

/

"You _drove_ here? It's like a two minute walk, tops." I say to Santana, smirking, as we leave my building. I have Katie's hand clasped firmly in my own on and Santana is on my other side, clutching a couple of cushions from my couch to her chest. We brought them for Katie to sit on, since we don't have her car seat yet.

She flushes slightly and it makes me smile even bigger.

"Well… I wanted to get here quickly," she says quietly and shrugs. I think I embarrassed her and I didn't mean to do that so I bump her hip gently with mine to let her know I'm kidding. She smiles shyly but doesn't look at me.

It's almost two in the afternoon when we pull into the drive-thru and I feel awful that Katie's first meal today is coming so late.

Santana asks me what I want to eat. I hadn't even thought of that, I just wanted to make sure Katie didn't go hungry.

"Oh, I'm good thanks," I tell her.

"Britt, you've gotta eat," she says. I shake my head.

"I'm just really not hungry, I'll eat later when we buy food." I smile at her reassuringly.

She opens her mouth like she wants to argue, but doesn't. She just rolls her eyes and orders Katie's food plus two lattes. I've never had a latte before; I usually just drink regular coffee, but Santana tells me that I'll like it.

She also insists on paying when we pull up to the window with the miserable-looking teenager in the baseball cap. It makes me feel super uncomfortable and also a little embarrassed. I try to protest but she _shushes_ me in that playful-but-not-condescending way she does a lot, and with a smile that could make me agree to anything.

I don't even have to direct her to my Mom's house because she has one of those GPS things. Katie stays pretty quiet for most of the journey. When she finishes eating she's too preoccupied with the stuff she brought in her backpack to talk to me or Santana – who she keeps on calling _Miss Lopez_ even though Santana told her she doesn't have to - but I still glance at her over my shoulder every once in a while to make sure she's okay.

"It's this one, on the right," I tell Santana as we turn the corner onto my Mom's street. She pulls over outside the house and we decide to drink our lattes before I go inside. It probably won't help with calming my nerves and apprehension, but I like having a reason not to go in just yet. I still don't know what I'm going to say to my Mom if she is in there.

"What d'you think?" Santana asks. I know she's trying to keep the mood light and I'm not sure if it's for my benefit or Katie's.

"It's good," I say, "it's like coffee, but… fancier."

She smiles at that and nods. "Can I have some?" Katie asks from the back seat. We both turn to look at her.

"No, sweetie. You're too little for coffee," I say with an apologetic smile. She pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. "You don't want this icky, grown-up drink when you have your awesome apple juice, do you?" I ask her. I can't help but grin as she grabs the juice box that came with her kid's meal like she's only just remembered it.

She struggles getting the straw into the little hole, so Santana reaches back and helps. "There you go, sweetie," she mumbles as she hands it back to her. I'm not surprised how at how good she is with Katie, she _is_ a teacher after all, but it makes me smile nonetheless.

"Are you going to go in?" Santana asks once she realizes I've just been swirling the remnants of my latte around the bottom of the cup for the last five minutes. Her words are gentle and caring. I think she knows how nervous I am.

"Yeah." I put the cup in the holder on the center console. "I probably won't be long."

She nods. "There's a duffle bag in the trunk if you need it."

"Thanks." I start to open the car door but I feel something pull at the back of my shirt.

"Where are you going?" It's Katie. She's leaning forward in her seat and clutching at the material of my shirt with her tiny fist.

"I'm going in to get your stuff, remember?" I rub her hand and smile at her.

"Can I come with you?" Her eyes are wide and her breathing is heavy, like she's panicking or something. When I look at Santana her eyes are gentle and concerned and knowing. She understands something that I don't. I'm used to that happening, but not when it comes to Katie.

"No, sweetie. You're gonna stay in the car with Santana. I won't be gone long." I smile, but when I start to pull away again her grip on my shirt tightens.

"No, Britt-Britt, don't leave. Miss Lopez can go!" Her eyes fill with tears and her bottom lip trembles as she grips so tightly at my shirt that her knuckles turn white. I feel like something cold snakes its way around my heart and squeezes until it hurts.

I think I get it now.

"Katie," I whisper, "C'mere." I pull her towards me and she climbs between mine and Santana's seats and curls up on my lap, her face pressed into my collarbone. I feel her shoulders shake with sobs as tears start rolling down my own cheeks.

Santana doesn't say anything; she just reaches across and softly rubs Katie's back for a second before squeezing my arm.

It takes a few minutes to calm her down. I gently rock us back and forth and make _shushing_ sounds into her hair. Once Katie's sobs start to get a little softer I lean back and cradle her face in my hands to make sure she's looking at me. I wipe her tears away with my thumbs and try to smile.

"Katie, I will never, _ever_ leave you, okay? Not ever." She sniffles and wipes at her nose with her sleeve but doesn't actually respond. "You believe me, right?" I ask, barely above a whisper. She hesitates and nods.

"I'm just gonna go inside, get some of your things and I'll be right back, lickety-split," I tell her. She smiles a little. She usually laughs when I say silly words like that. "Is there anything you can think of that you _really_ want me to get?" I ask. I think my attempt at distracting her worked because she swivels her eyes upwards like she's thinking.

"My pink piano," she says, her voice trembling and cracking a little, "and my panda, and all my High School Musical DVDs… and my dollhouse."

I smile at her. "I don't think your dollhouse will fit, but I'll get everything else, okay?" She nods slowly.

I look at Santana and she snatches her hand away from my shoulder like she just remembered it was there.

"Hey, Katie," she says timidly. "Britt-Britt tells me you're awesome at _I spy_. D'ya wanna play?" Katie seems to perk up at that because she smiles through her sniffles and nods enthusiastically.

"I'll be right back, okay?" I say. I kiss the top of her head and she nods.

I awkwardly slide out of the car as Katie takes my place in the passenger seat. The fresh air feels good, even though it's cold. Seeing my sister so sad and scared like that made me feel like I was suffocating but I can breathe again now.

I grab Santana's duffle bag from the trunk and walk up the little path towards my Mom's front door. My hand shakes as I ring the doorbell, even though I know deep down that there's a pretty slim chance she'll be home. When there's no answer I try looking through the peep hole but I can't really see anything.

I crouch down next the potted plant by the door and lift the edge of it, sliding out the spare key that's been kept under there for as long as I can remember. It's all rusted and dirty and I wipe it off on my sleeve before I use it to unlock the door.

The hallway looks normal, and the part of the kitchen I can see from here. If it wasn't so cold I'd swear nothing was different.

"Mom?" I call out. _Silence_. There's definitely nobody here.

I decide to look around quickly before I start getting Katie's stuff. Maybe there will be something here that tells me where my Mom is, or at least gives me a clue. I regret my decision as soon as I walk in the living room. It looks like a tornado ripped through it. There's stuff all over the floor and there are noticeable gaps where things used to be - as if somebody packed in a hurry, grabbing whatever they could. I don't like thinking about what my Mom must have been feeling or thinking when she did this so I march upstairs as fast as I can, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Katie's bedroom looks the same as the living room, like somebody stormed through it and piled anything that came to hand into a bag and left. I start searching through all the toys scattered around the floor for the ones Katie said she wanted.

I find the panda first, underneath a pile of stuffed animals on her bed and I throw it into the open duffle bag on the floor. Then I freeze when I hear someone stomping quickly up the stairs.

"Katie, come back!" Santana's voice carries up the stairs and into the room but I can tell she's still outside.

The stomping gets louder and closer until I see Katie round the corner into the room; she throws herself at me, hugging me around my waist and looks up with a sneaky grin on her face. I raise my eyebrows and try not to smile back because I know _exactly_ what she's done, but I can't help it. She looks so pleased with herself.

Santana appears in the doorway a few seconds later looking flustered and panicked.

"I'm so sorry," she gasps. "I was getting some _Dots_ out of the glove compartment for her and she just ran."

"It's okay, it's fine." I wiggle out of Katie's grasp and walk over to Santana, ducking my head close to hers. " _She's not here,_ " I whisper and smile. She exhales and her shoulders relax after I say that.

"And _you,_ Squirt." I turn back to Katie and ruffle her hair. "You shouldn't scare people like that." She looks down bashfully.

"Sorry, Miss Lopez," she mumbles. Santana rolls her eyes and smiles.

"It's fine, come on, let's find your toys." She winks at me as she walks towards Katie and it makes my tummy tingle. I feel my ears get hot and hope she didn't notice.

It doesn't take us long to find the pink piano and the DVDs with all three of us looking. "Did you wanna pack some clothes?" Santana asks as I'm about the zip up the duffle. I didn't think of that, I know Katie said she had clothes in the bags at my apartment but I probably should have checked anyway before we left.

"Yeah, sure," I reply. I go through Katie's dresser as Santana raids the closet. I just grab the top layer of clothes from each drawer and shove them in the bag before Santana stacks the clothes from the closet neatly on top. I don't realize my hands are shaking or how eager I am to just leave until I zip the duffle bag closed and stand up. My knees are wobbly and just being in this room is starting to make me feel really claustrophobic.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," I say before leading the way out of the room.

Santana puts the bag in the trunk as I help Katie onto her booster seat – I grabbed it from the cupboard under the stairs on the way out – and strap her in. It's awkward because Santana's car only has one door on each side so I have to tip the passenger seat forward and lean over it to reach her. I groan with effort as I duck back out and stand upright.

I'm about to hop into the car after I flick my seat back into position but before I can Santana comes up behind me and closes the door. She pulls me into a hug and I'm so taken aback it kind of sucks the air out of me. I hug her back though; I wrap my arms tightly around her waist and turn my face into her neck to breathe in the scent of her coconut shampoo.

"How are you holding up?" she asks softly.

"Okay," I reply. I feel bad; it seems like ever since I've known her we've just been focusing on me - on helping me and talking about _my_ problems. I want to hear about _her_ problems and help _her_ with stuff and listen to everything she has to say. "I wanna help you too," I mumble into her hair. It probably wasn't the best way to phrase it, but I know she'll understand what I mean.

She takes a few moments to say anything back but when she does, she says the last thing I expected her to: "Don't worry, you already have."

She pulls back slightly and brings her hand up to my cheek; I close my eyes as her thumb strokes over my skin. If only I could just stay like this with her forever. I feel so safe and looked after in a way that I've never felt before and I know that as soon as she pulls away all that warmth will leave with her.

I reach up and cover her hand with my own, pressing it firmly into my face as I snuggle into her palm. Yes, I could definitely stay like this forever.

"Britt…" she whispers.

"Are we going or what?" Katie's muffled cry brings us back down to Earth. We pull apart and both smile awkwardly at one another.

Just as Santana opens her mouth to say something, the grey blanket of sky above us - which I saw before and thought wasn't dark enough to be anything more than depressing - bursts with rain and it's suddenly falling hard around us. It's so cold and sudden that it makes me jump and sends a chill straight to my bones.

"Oh, crap!" Santana yells, shielding her head with her hands. She runs around the opposite side of the car. "Come on! Get in!" she calls out over the pounding rain, so I do.

"Jeez, this storm came out of nowhere, huh?" I say after we've been driving in uncomfortable silence for about twenty minutes. We haven't even had Katie to distract us because she went back to playing the stuff in her backpack as soon as we started driving. I keep wondering whether it's uncomfortable because of the moment we had outside the car and it makes me think we need to talk about things other than what is happening with Katie.

As we drive, thunder starts to clap hard and violent somewhere out in the haze.

"They did say to expect rain on the weather report this morning," says Santana, craning her head upwards to look at the sky through the windshield. "But this _is_ more like a storm." She drops her eyes quickly back to the road and grips the steering wheel tighter because it must be super scary, driving when it's raining this hard and the water is surging all over the road and making the car tires slosh really loudly against the asphalt.

"Oh, I don't really watch the news," I tell her then I twist my head back. "You okay, Katie? Thunder's not scaring you, is it?" I know she isn't afraid of thunder but I like to make sure. She doesn't reply.

"Katie?" I turn in my seat and find her slumped against the inside of the car door, fast asleep. I smile and turn to face forwards again. "She's asleep," I tell Santana.

"I figured." She smiles and then her forehead creases. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding."

I look forward and squint through the windshield; all I can make out are lights and water and traffic, backed up as far as I can see. We slow to a stop and Santana slumps back in her seat, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Guess we're stuck here for a while, huh?" She sighs.

I shoot her an apologetic smile. "Yeah."

/

By the time we get back to my apartment it's dark and the rain has pretty much stopped. My eyes bug out when I look at my watch and realize it's almost eight. I can't believe we were sitting in traffic for that long; it didn't really drag at all. Probably because Santana and I played an epic game of _I spy_ – made all the more challenging by the fact the rain made it impossible to see anything outside of the car.

I scoop Katie awkwardly out of the back seat and carry her inside while Santana carries the duffle bag and the cushions we took with us. Katie did wake up for a little while when we were in the traffic jam, but as soon as we started driving again it lulled her back to sleep.

I tuck her up in my bed once we get upstairs. I don't bother with making her change into her pajamas. She's had a long day and she has school tomorrow, I want her to sleep.

"Where should I put this?" Santana asks, gesturing to the duffle bag on her shoulder as I approach her.

"Anywhere there's space." I smile. She puts it down by the coffee table.

"We didn't get groceries," she says.

"Yeah." I sigh. "I guess I can just order a pizza." I look at her and hesitate before I ask, "did you wanna stay… for dinner?" I look down and play with the hem of my shirt, suddenly nervous about her answer. I really want her to stay, but I don't want her to feel like she has to.

"Sure," she says and gives me a lopsided smile as I look at her again. "I'd like that."

We busy ourselves making room for Katie's stuff and putting it all away as best as we can while we're waiting for our pizza – half anchovies for Santana and half pepperoni for me – to arrive.

I go to the kitchen to make a quick phone call to Ryan but he doesn't answer again so I leave a voicemail message asking him to call me when he can. I grab a couple of beers from the fridge and briefly wonder how bad it is that I have beer but no food. I guess it's not _so_ bad- I mostly just kept them in for Sam.

I close my eyes and try to block thoughts of Sam from my mind, it just makes me feel heavy and while Santana's here I want to feel light.

There's a knock at the door just as I walk out of the kitchen so I hand both beers to Santana while I go pay for the pizza. As soon as I smell it I realize how starving I am, I haven't eaten all day and I don't think Santana has either.

I sit on the armchair instead of next to Santana on the couch, that way I can put the pizza box on the coffee table and we can both reach our own half of the pizza.

We eat without talking for a few minutes; just the sound of our chewing and taking the occasional sip of beer breaks the silence. It's not uncomfortable, I think we both just need a moment to process everything that's happened.

I'm the first to talk, and I tell her _thank you_.

She looks at me and raises her eyebrows. I think she would be asking what I'm thanking her for if she didn't have a mouthful of pizza.

"For… _everything_ ," I tell her. She swallows her food before she responds.

"Don't mention it." We smile at one another then, and hold eye contact for a moment before I start feeling nervous again. I look back at the slice of pizza I'm holding but don't take a bite. "Um… Britt?"

I look at her and smile again because she sounds all timid. "Yeah?"

She lets out a heavy breath. "I think you and Katie should come stay with me."

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. "What?" I ask dumbly. _Did I hear that right_?

"I know it sounds a little crazy, but, I want to help and I really think it would make it easier on you guys. And you wouldn't have to get a second job if you didn't have your apartment to worry about, right?"

"Uh… I." I take a deep, steadying breath; I can't believe she would just offer up her apartment like that, like it's nothing, where did this girl _come_ from? I swear just gets sweeter and more perfect every time I see her. "That's so nice. _So_ , so nice, but I'd still have to pay rent even if I wasn't living here or I'd lose the place," I tell her.

"Yeah, I know. But you wouldn't have to pay bills, and you and Katie would have a room each, and I basically live there for free so you wouldn't have to give me any money or anything like that. Look, no pressure, you can take some time to think about it if you want. But I really think it'll make your life a whole lot easier. And… ya know, I wouldn't mind the company." She shrugs after saying that last part and it makes my heart tug really hard.

I try to calm the sudden swell of thoughts swimming around my head and focus on what she said. She's right, it _would_ make it easier. But it would also make things between Santana and I a whole lot more complicated. But how can I turn it down? I honestly have no clue how I'm going to cope with this Katie situation and she's basically just offered to solve all of my problems.

"Could I bring Lord Tubbington the Second?" I ask.

She snorts out a laugh. "Sure. So… is that a yes?"

I bite my lip and nod. "Yes, that's a yes."

We grin at each other and then she goes back to her pizza. I keep smiling at her for a moment because it's bursting out of me, but then I go back to my pizza too.


	11. We Share the Same Skies Part I

**Monday**

We decide to move into Santana's after school, she even managed to finish all the extra teacher stuff she has to do after class early so that we could leave pretty much right away. I told her that we could leave it a few days if she wanted, so that she could be prepared and stuff but she just shrugged and said, "Why wait?"

We manage to do it in one trip, even in Santana's tiny car because it's not like normal moving house and we don't really have to take much stuff. We just take clothes and bathroom stuff and Katie's toys. I was going to take bed sheets and pillows too but Santana told me not to bother.

The car would have been a little cramped if Katie and I had been in it too so we decide to walk and meet Santana outside her building. I make Katie walk on the side of me farthest away from the street because I'm holding Lord Tubbington's fish bowl and I can't hold her hand. I know she's old enough to know not to walk out in front of a car but I still get nervous.

"Why do we have to live at Miss Lopez's house? Mommy said I was staying with you." She starts quizzing me as we walk. I don't think she's actually upset that we're staying there; she just wants to know what's going on. I've been trying to stick as close to the truth as possible when I tell her things because I don't want to lie, but I also know I have to lie a little bit because she's too young to understand everything. Hell, I'm not even sure _I_ understand.

"Because her apartment is bigger than mine, and you can have your own room. You want your own room, right?" I smile down at her and bump her with my hip. She nods. "You know, you don't have to call her Miss Lopez when you're not at school, sweetie. You can call her Santana," I tell her.

"But she's a teacher," she argues.

"Yeah but you're not in school." I smile again and wink because she looks so worried and confused, like she thinks she'll get in trouble for calling a teacher by their first name. "I think she'd like it if you called her Santana, but you don't have to if you don't want to." I smile at her again.

I actually know for a fact Santana would love it if Katie called her by her first name outside of school; she's told Katie herself a couple of times but I think maybe she doesn't want to push it. I think she feels a little awkward around her and I understand why. When they teach you how to work with kids you're told and told and then told again, that no matter how hard it is, you have to keep your emotional distance. It's harder with some kids than with others, like the kids who have problems at home. Sometimes you have to fight every instinct in your body not to hug them, sometimes you feel like just taking them home with you so you can keep them safe, and sometimes you even feel like quitting just so that you don't have to see it happening anymore.

Now Santana is sort of going to have one of those kids living with her, and I think if Katie called her by her first name it might make her feel more comfortable letting herself get close. Right now she's still kind of in teacher mode, she's been walking on egg shells around both of us all day and it makes me think maybe we shouldn't be doing this. I don't want her to feel uncomfortable or like she has to act a certain way. I close my eyes for a second and remind myself that this is the right thing to do for Katie, so that I don't feel so guilty that I change my mind about moving in. I try to think of something to talk about to distract myself.

"Hey, Katie I was thinking, we should like, take Santana out to dinner or something. You know, to say thank you for letting us stay with her. What d'ya think?" I've actually been thinking it ever since Santana and I ate pizza together last night. I know it doesn't exactly compare to what she's giving us, but it's a start.

"Okay." She nods up at me.

"Awesome, where do you think she'd like to go?"

She hums and looks up at the sky, like the name of Santana's favorite restaurant might be etched into the clouds.

"Chuck E. Cheese's?" She grins and I giggle.

"No, that's where _you_ wanna go. I think Santana would like to go to a grown-up restaurant."

She pouts and I snort with laughter. "Hey, what about Breadstix?" I ask. I'm pretty sure it's the only restaurant in Lima where Sam and I haven't been on a date – I don't think I could stand to be reminded of any good times I had with Sam right now - and I remember Santana saying on one of our lunch breaks that she likes Italian food.

Katie doesn't respond and just keeps on pouting.

"I'm pretty sure they do macaroni and cheese there," I tell her even though I don't actually know that for sure. But I figure it's Italian, so they _must_. A smile starts pinching at the corners of her lips and she looks up at me again.

"Do they have chocolate milk?" she asks.

"Probably, I don't see why not," I say and she smiles even bigger. "So that's a _yes_ to Breadstix?"

She nods quickly. "Okay. Can I take him out of his bowl?" She points at the fish bowl in my arms and looks up at me with giant, pleading eyes.

 _"_ Um." I look down quickly at Lord Tubbington as I adjust to the swift change of subject. "No, sweetie, he'll die."

"Why?" she asks.

I almost laugh when I look back at her, she's still looking up at me but now with a dramatically creased forehead and her eyebrows scrunched tightly together.

"Because fish can't breathe out of water," I tell her. She gives me a look that I can only describe as scandalized.

"Why?" she asks again and I sigh. I usually love it when Katie bombards me with questions about stuff like this, it's adorable, plus it makes me feel smart in a silly way. But right now I feel like I have too many things to think about to give her fun answers like I usually would.

"I don't know, sweetie. They just can't." It's not a lie. I don't really know why fish can't breathe out of water any more than I know why humans can't breathe under it, or why whales and dolphins live under water when they breathe oxygen. I've never really thought to question any of it. Maybe I should take Katie to the aquarium and we can find out together. That might actually be pretty fun, and I've always been interested in sharks.

I _o_ nce heard that _shark_ is the scariest word in the English language. I don't know how they know that. Maybe they had a vote. Anyway, when I heard it I didn't really get it; actually I _still_ don't get it. A shark can only eat you if you go in the water, so just _don't_ go in the water. It's pretty easy. You're way more likely to get hit by a car, and you can't really avoid crossing the street the way you can avoid going in the water. But nobody ever says _car_ is a scary word, and you wouldn't scream or run away if you saw a car, even though people get hurt and killed by them every day. I'm pretty sure like, one person a year actually dies from a shark attack.

I guess it's because sharks _look_ scary. They're big and strong and have sharp teeth and kind of look like monsters. Cars are smooth and shiny and pretty, but I think that makes them _more_ scary if anything. At least sharks are up front about their scariness. Cars try to hide it.

"Hey." Santana's voice pulls me from my thoughts, the way it has so many times these last couple of weeks. _Wait_ , when did we even get to Santana's building?

"Hey," I reply, shaking myself out of my daze.

"I'm pretty much done taking everything up," she tells me. "You guys sure walk slow." She smirks and I know she's kidding but I still feel bad that she carried all the stuff up to her apartment by herself.

"Sorry," I say, "I'll just take Lord Tubbington upstairs and I'll come back and get the rest."

She rolls her eyes. "It's fine, it's just Katie's toys. You go on up." She winks. I wish she would stop doing that. Or at least when I'm carrying heavy glass bowls filled with water.

"Katie, help Santana with your toys, honey," I say before I turn and head into the building.

The security man behind the reception desk gives me a funny look again. He probably thinks I'm crazy. The last time I came here was just after I found Sam with Mercedes when I probably looked all sad and confused and flustered, and now I'm back with a goldfish bowl. I smile at him anyway as I hold the elevator door open with my foot for Katie and Santana when they catch up.

I smile even bigger when I realize how diluted that nauseous feeling I get when I think about what happened with Sam has become. I think it's getting easier to stomach as the days pass, even though it's only been three. It seems like longer than that somehow. Maybe because so much has happened.

Katie is holding Santana's hand when they walk into the building, they look so sweet together. Katie with her little backpack and hugging her panda to her chest with her free arm, and Santana with the same duffle bag I used to get Katie's stuff yesterday slung over her shoulder. She gives me the softest, warmest smile ever as she steps past me into the elevator. It makes me feel like I've been wrapped in an electric blanket.

I think Santana wants to say stuff to me because she keeps looking like she's about to start talking while we ride in the elevator. I think maybe there are certain things she doesn't want to say in front of Katie or something, or maybe she just doesn't know how to say what she wants to say. I get that sometimes.

"Where is everything?" I ask her when we step into her apartment and see no sign of any of the bags Santana carried up before Katie and I arrived.

"Oh I put it all in one of the guest bedrooms, I wasn't sure whose stuff was in which bags," she replies.

"Okay, thanks. We'll go put them away in a minute, I don't want to make your apartment messy." I smile at her and she shrugs.

"Well, we can if you want but there's no rush."

"Where are you gonna put him?" Katie asks, dropping Santana's hand and pointing to Lord Tubbington's bowl.

"Oh." Santana starts walking and gestures for us to follow. "I thought we could put him on one of the top shelves in the kitchen, so the cat can't get to him."

"What cat?" Katie chirps as she falls into stride beside me.

Santana looks back at her over her shoulder and smirks as she goes to open one of the doors that line the hallway, the one opposite her bedroom.

"Oh." She stops herself, "she's not allergic to cats, right?"

I smile and shake my head. "Nope."

She turns the handle and pushes the door. A little tabby cat squeezes its way out as soon the door cracks open wide enough.

"Kitty," Katiegasps _,_ a grin lighting up her face. She drops her panda and tip-toes towards the cat, crouching down to pet it.

It's not a kitten, but it's also not a fully-grown cat either. I guess I would describe it as a teenaged cat. It purrs like an engine and rubs up against Katie, closing its eyes and basking in the attention she gives it.

"What's his name?" Katie asks, looking at Santana.

"Um, she doesn't really have a name. I just call her Cat," Santana says sheepishly with a chuckle.

I lean up against the doorjamb and watch them talk with a smile on my face.

"Hey." Santana's voice suddenly brightens, "why don't you give her a name? I just couldn't think of one."

The way Katie smiles at that makes me want to kiss Santana _s_ illy. I haven't seen her smile that way since I found her in my apartment Saturday evening.

"Really?" Katie asks, looking back at the cat.

"Sure."

"Okay, um…" She looks up at the ceiling while she thinks and I watch the cat bat her head against Katie's hand, trying to get her to start petting her again. "Lizard," she says, finally.

Santana scrunches her nose up in the most adorable way and narrows her eyes playfully at Katie. " _Lizard_?" she echoes.

"Uh huh," Katie replies as she goes back to petting _Lizard._ "We can call her Liz for a nickname." She smiles up at Santana and then me, waiting for our approval.

Santana snorts with laughter. "Okay, _Lizard_ it is," she says, smiling and turns to me. "This is yours and Katie's bathroom by the way." She pokes at the door Lizard came out of so that it opens all the way. I lean back away from the doorjamb so that I can look. Not that I need to look - I'd be happy with anything _,_ but I think she wants me to look.

"Awesome, thank you," I say to her. She smiles and looks briefly at Katie before silently gesturing for me to follow her. We leave Katie to play with Lizard in the hallway. I look back at her one more time before we walk into the kitchen to make sure she's okay but I don't think she even noticed we left.

I feel Santana take the goldfish bowl from my hands before I look back properly. I don't realize how heavy it is until it's gone and my arms feel weightless without it.

"I'm gonna put it up here." She puts the bowl on a corner shelf between two cupboards, "if that's okay?" She doesn't take her arms away from the shelf until I nod.

"Thanks," I say.

She nods and takes a step towards me and starts rubbing her hand up and down my arm. I'm so glad I'm wearing a jacket because I feel goose bumps erupt all over my skin and I'm kind of glad she can't see how easily she turns me to mush. I feel the tips of my ears start getting hot so I look at the floor.

"Are you okay?" she asks gently. I nod again and smile but still don't look at her, she's standing so close to me and I feel so hot and so stupid for getting this flustered over nothing.

"Britt…" she says, so quietly. I can hear the smile in her voice and it makes me feel even more embarrassed because it means she knows. I feel her fingertips touch my chin and tilt my face up to look at her. She's smiling, it's playful and consoling at the same time and she's so, so close. "You're so easy to embarrass," she whispers, "I think it's gonna be fun, being your _roomie_."

I roll my eyes and shake my head, trying to fight my grin. My face is burning now but I feel better somehow. She giggles and drops her hand from my chin and just when I think she's about to step away she closes the space that's left between our bodies. I think my heart just about leaps out of my chest when I feel her hand on my waist.

I think she's going to kiss me but I can't bring myself to look at her face again and find out so I just wait, but she doesn't do anything.

"Which room am I sleeping in?" Katie's voice cuts through the static ringing in my ears and I feel Santana pull away from me. I don't turn to look at Katie, I don't think I could move if I tried.

"Um." Santana clears her throat. "Just down the hall, I'll come show you. Hey, where's Lizard?"

"She ran off, I'll go get her." I hear Katie jog clumsily back down the hallway like a baby elephant.

"I'm sorry," I hear Santana whisper once Katie is out of earshot. I let myself look at her now. I think she's embarrassed, there's a slight blush dusting her cheeks and she's looking at the floor. "I know we're not…"

"It's okay," I tell her, my voice shakes a little. I nod and smile when she looks at me to show her that it's okay, she didn't even do anything, it's my fault for getting flustered so easily.

She looks like she wants to say something else, but she just exhales heavily instead. "Come on, I'll show you where you're sleeping," she says as she brushes past me.

I follow her into the hallway where Katie is waiting for us, holding Lizard. She doesn't look too happy about being held, but she's not struggling to get away.

"Be sure to let her go if she wants to go, sweetie. I don't want her to scratch you," Santana tells her, smiling. Katie nods.

Santana opens the door directly opposite the kitchen and gestures for us to follow her inside. The room is fairly small, about half the size of Santana's bedroom, and there's a double bed pushed up against the far wall just below the window with just a few feet of floor space around it. There's a closet opposite the bed that's big enough to fit all mine _and_ Katie's things probably, our bags are on the floor in front of it.

"This is your room, Katie," says Santana.

Katie walks through the middle of us and leans against the side of the bed. I think she's too small to sit on it without pulling herself up with her arms and right now she still has the cat clutched firmly against her chest. We watch her as she looks around her, wide-eyed for a second before her gaze falls on Santana.

"I get a grown-up bed?" she asks, a little disbelieving.

"M-hmm." Santana nods.

Katie turns away from us and puts Lizard on the bed before climbing on herself. She ducks her head close to that cat's and starts petting her again.

"Do you like our new room, kitty?" she whispers. Santana and I both let out stifled giggles at that. It makes Katie look up at us again. "Can I bring my toys in here?" she asks.

"Sure, I left the bag in the living room," Santana tells her.

She jumps off the bed and runs between us and out of the door, leaving Lizard alone to sniff and paw at the purple comforter.

Katie comes back a few seconds later, dragging the duffle bag behind her with one hand and holding her panda in the other.

I watch her as she unzips it and starts pulling stuff out, before I feel Santana tap me lightly on the shoulder.

"You want to see your room?"

"Okay." I nod and smile at her. I think she's forgotten about what happened in the kitchen, at least it seems like she has. That's good, she had no reason to get embarrassed anyway, I'm the one who got flustered just because she stood near me.

I pick up the two bags that are mine and follow her out of the room to the last door in the hallway.

The room is a little bigger than Katie's, there's another double bed with black sheets and there's some kind of reggae picture on the wall above it. This room looks like it's from a different apartment to all the others. I drop my bags and look at Santana as she turns to face me.

"This is actually my room," she says. "I just sleep in my parents' room because it's bigger and has its own bathroom." She smiles and I nod. "It can get a little noisy in here." She points to the window that's only slightly muffling the sound of the traffic outside. "'Cause you're right by the street. But we can take turns if you want."

"Oh, no don't be silly, I'll be fine," I tell her.

"Well, we'll see how you feel after a few sleepless nights." She smirks.

Silence falls over us after that and suddenly the cars whirring by outside do seem pretty loud. I let my eyes wander for a moment before a dresser catches my eye. Well, what's _on_ the dresser, the top of it is littered with pictures and little cheerleading trophies – too many to be decorative. It looks like someone just put them all up there because they couldn't find another place for them. I smile and wander over.

"You were a cheerleader?" I ask, gesturing towards them. I feel her, more than hear her, walk up behind me. The scent of her perfume washes over me and as she leans past my shoulder to grab one of the trophies and it forces me to close my eyes as my heart beats thick and heavy inside my chest.

"I was," she says gently, before setting the trophy back down, "in high school _and_ college." I can tell she rolled her eyes as she said that, even though I'm not looking at her.

"I was a cheerleader in high school too." I open my eyes again and let them run over the framed pictures. There's one of, I assume, Santana and her parents when she was little; I remember her mentioning she was an only child. I always feel bad for kids who have to grow up by themselves; I would have been so bored when I was little if I hadn't had Ryan.

"You went to OSU?" I ask, spotting one of a few pictures of groups of girls posing in cheerleading uniforms, the token red and _Ohio State_ splattered across their chests catching my eye.

"Uh-huh," she says, sounding a little closer than before.

"My brother goes there," I tell her, "he's at the college of nursing. He lives in Hilliard with his boyfriend so he has to drive to Columbus every day. I told him he should just move to Columbus but I think he likes living with his boyfriend." I chuckle nervously because I know I'm rambling. Santana is standing so, so close. I can feel her warmth behind me. It's not that I don't want her standing close; I just don't want to freak out like I did in the kitchen. And I have no clue how I'm supposed to act around her.

"Where did _you_ go?" she asks in a hushed voice.

"Huh?"

"For college? You said you went for a year…"

"Oh, yeah, Miller."

"In Michigan?"

I nod. "Elementary education."

"That's sort of what I studied too," she tells me.

"I figured."

"We might've been in the same class if you went to State."

I'm about to tell her that would have been fun when another picture catches my eye; one of the cheerleading group photos. They're wearing a blue uniform this time and I recognize it as the West Lima High uniform from all the football games our school played against theirs. I pick up the picture for a closer look. "Is this Quinn?" I point to the blond girl standing next to Santana. Her hair is longer and her skin looks less _lived in_ but I'm pretty sure it's her.

"Yeah," she replies, looking over my shoulder at the picture.

"It's weird, Quinn and I always said we probably saw each other back then and forgot, 'cause our schools used to meet so much. Maybe I saw you too." I turn to smile at her but turn back quickly when I realize how close her face is. I carefully put the picture back from where I got it.

"I think we would remember," she says and I can hear her smiling again.

I turn to face her and lean back against the dresser. I suppose she has a point, I probably would remember seeing her. I smile and nod.

"We should get dinner, Katie's probably getting hungry," she says, her eyes not leaving mine. It makes me feel breathless, how close she's standing and how gently she's speaking and the way she's looking at me and all I can do is nod again.

We have spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. I practically have to force Santana to go and sit down and let me cook. I figure it's the least I can do, but she still manages to unpack all of mine and Katie's stuff while I'm in the kitchen.

By the time we've finished dinner it's time for me to put Katie to bed and read her a story. She only brought one with her in her little backpack, _Goodnight Moon._ She's too old for it now really but it's been her favorite ever since she was little. As I'm reading it to her I start switching the words around to see if she catches me out and it makes us both giggle.

"I should say goodnight to the moon," she says as I close up the book and put it on the bedside table.

I look down and smile at her; she's snuggled up next to me in her new giant bed looking out of the window above us, her face lit on one side by the bedside lamp. "Why's that?" I ask her.

"You know Mrs Brown?"

"Yeah?" Mrs Brown was Katie's old teacher before Santana; she always used to give me funny looks when I asked her how Katie was doing in class.

"Well she always said that if you miss somebody you should look at the moon, because however far apart you are you can both always see it. So if I say goodnight to the moon it's like I'm saying goodnight to Mommy, right?"

I smile down at her. "Right," I say. I try not to think about how wrong this all is but I can't help it. I wish so bad that I could tell Katie that she won't have to miss Mom for long and that she'll be able to say goodnight to her for real soon, but how can I? I don't know when she's coming back, or if she is at all. The note said she needed a break which means she thought she was going to come back when she wrote it. But what if she changes her mind? Or if she's too scared to come home because she thinks everybody will be mad at her?

I wish I could just talk to her.

I find Santana in the kitchen once I get Katie to sleep. She's just finished doing the dishes and I roll my eyes at her.

"I told you _I_ would do that," I say.

"Well I beat you to it." She smirks, dropping the dishtowel on the counter. "So," she says, leaning against the dining table, "I dunno about you but I could use a drink, you wanna help me finish that bottle of wine we started last week?"

"Sure," I reply, and hope that she doesn't need a drink because we're making her stressed.

She grabs the bottle from the fridge and two glasses from the cupboard and we go sit on the big, comfy couch in the living room.

"What do you wanna watch?" she asks, pointing the remote at the TV and flicking absently through the channels. I tell her I don't mind so we settle on re-runs of _Friends_ before _s_ he turns the volume down low and turns to me. I'm not looking at her but I can see her out of the corner of my eye.

"Is Katie okay?" she asks softly. I turn to look at her as she brings her glass to her lips and tuck one leg underneath me so that I can face her comfortably.

"Yeah. She misses our Mom, but that's normal, right?"

She nods and gives me a sad smile. "What about you?"

"I'm good," I say, and take a sip from my own glass.

She sighs and looks like she's going to say something but then hesitates and says something else instead. "I'm sorry we didn't have more of a choice for dinner, we can go grocery shopping tomorrow."

"I love spaghetti and meatballs, it's my second favorite after mac and cheese," I tell her. She shouldn't be apologizing; she should be doing whatever the _opposite_ of apologizing is. Plus I didn't even notice there wasn't much food; she has a hell of a lot more food in her kitchen than I have in mine. Then I feel a sudden rush of excitement when I remember what Katie and I talked about earlier.

"Oh!" I bounce up and down in my seat. "What are you doing Wednesday? After work?" I ask her.

"Um... nothing, I guess." She smiles warmly at me.

"Do you want to go to dinner? At Breadstix? Or anywhere? It doesn't have to be Breadstix, we can go somewhere else if you'd prefer."

Her eyes bug out and I notice a blush start creeping up her cheeks. "Uh… I… _really_?" She puts her glass on the coffee table and starts fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "I thought you'd need more… uh." She stutters and looks so flustered and now I'm confused. _Did I not ask right_?

"Katie and I were talking about it earlier, we wanted to say thank you so, we thought we could take you out for dinner." I nod when I'm finished. I definitely said it right that time.

Santana's shoulders slump and she closes her eyes for a second. My tummy starts trembling with nerves and the tips of my ears start burning. Maybe this _wasn't_ a good idea, I just wanted to do something nice for her but now I'm starting to feel stupid.

"That's really sweet, I would like that a lot," she says, finally. She smiles and nods at me and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Awesome."

We go back to watching TV in silence after that. I see Santana pick her wine glass back up and drink it all in one gulp out of the corner of my eye. I think she's nervous and I really hope it's not because of me, I don't want her to feel uncomfortable in her own home, she didn't have to do this.

I'm about to say something to her but she talks first. "Hey, Britt?"

I go back to facing her with one leg tucked up underneath me again. "Yeah?"

She sighs and opens her mouth and closes it again a couple of times and I smile at her so she knows it's okay to say whatever she wants to say. I always find it pretty funny that anybody could feel embarrassed or uncomfortable around me; I'm the one who's always saying stupid stuff that I don't mean to say.

"I know you don't know what's going to happen yet," she starts, "but if this becomes more permanent, Katie being with you, you know there are some things you're going to have to take care of. Like… legal things. I know it might not even come to that and you don't have to worry about it yet, but I just thought you should know."

She sucks her lips into her mouth with wide eyes like she thinks she may have overstepped by saying that. She didn't. Not at all. I actually hadn't even thought of that, but she's right; I have no rights over Katie whatsoever, and our living arrangements right now are probably totally illegal.

"Yeah, you're right." I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose while I try to figure out which of the thoughts swimming around my head is the one I need to think about right now. There are so many things left to do, I feel stupid for thinking we could just move in here that would be it. Maybe I should make another list.

"Hey," says Santana, her voice so gentle it practically floats through the air between us. She pulls my hand away from my face and holds it on her lap.

I open my eyes and look at her even though the way she's stroking her thumb over the backs of my knuckles is making me want to keep them closed.

"Like I said," she continues, "You don't know what's going to happen, so you don't need to start worrying about it yet. It's really just little things anyway, you know. Like, you can't sign permission slips for her unless you're her legal guardian. Stuff like that. You don't need to worry about it yet though, okay?"

I nod. "So, I might have to become her legal guardian?"

"Only if your Mom doesn't… If Katie has to stay living with you, yeah."

"I don't even know how to do that, how do you become someone's legal guardian? Would I have to go to court? What if they don't think I'm financially stable enough to be her guardian?"

"Don't worry," she squeezes my hand, "We'll figure it out, let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?" She gives me a little smile.

"What if they don't let me keep her?" I feel my chest get tight as the thought occurs to me. "What if they put her in like, foster care or something?"

Santana frantically shakes her head as soon as the words leave my mouth. "They won't. They never put a kid in foster care if there's a better option, okay? That won't happen."

She sounds pretty sure and I feel a little better; I should really know things like that though. "What if my brother is the better option? He has a house and a car and his boyfriend has a really good job, what if they give Katie to him?" I don't know why that thought makes me so sad, it's not like Ryan would do a bad job looking after her, and Katie thinks the world of him. I just really want her with me. I'd hardly get to see her if she lived with Ryan.

"Something tells me Katie would rather stay with you," she says.

That makes me smile a little and I look down at our clasped hands. "You know lots of stuff," I tell her.

She lets out a breathed laugh at that. "So do you."

I don't think I do but I'm not going to argue. I'm pretty sure most people think I'm either stupid or insane, or that I'm making jokes when I'm not, but Santana doesn't and I like it that way.

**Tuesday**

Santana is so much better at grocery shopping than I am, she even has a list with everything written down in the order that you walk past them in the store. I always end up walking from one end of the store to other about six times and still forget stuff. And I usually only manage to get halfway through my list before I get bored and decide to call it a day. That's probably why I always run out of food so quickly.

It takes some convincing but she lets me pay for the groceries. I figure it's the least I can do since she won't let me help her with anything else.

She shows me how to make something called ' _Sancocho de siete carnes'_ for dinner. She tells me I can just call it _Sancocho_ because I can't pronounce it properly, but she keeps calling it by its proper name just to make Katie laugh.

"My Abuela taught me how to make it when I was a kid," she tells me.

After I put Katie to bed I come back to the kitchen to find Santana doing the dishes again. She turns around smirking when she hears me come in and holds her hands up defensively.

"I only just started, okay?" She picks up a dish towel and throws it to me and I catch it awkwardly against my chest. "I'll wash, you dry," she says and turns back to the sink.

I start drying plates and saucepans and glasses as she hands them to me, and putting them away. "We should've done this the other way around," I say after the third time I have to ask her where something goes.

"It's fine, now you'll know for next time." She smiles at me and I smile back. Having a routine actually feels nice. Usually after work I would just collapse in front of the TV with Sam, or we would go for drinks with Quinn and Puck. I rarely ate dinner. Actually I can't even remember the last time I cooked a meal.

Santana scrubs in silence for a moment and then she stops, rests her elbows on the edge of the sink and looks up at me.

"Hey, um, I'm supposed to be going for drinks with Kurt and some of my old friends on Thursday. Is that okay?"

I scrunch my eyebrows together. "Of course. You don't have to _ask,_ silly." I grin and flick my dishcloth at her, that's the silliest thing I've ever heard.

"Hey!" She bats the soapy dishwater at me and I giggle, brushing away some of the bubbles before they seep into my shirt. "I'm just saying, if you'd rather I stay home with you guys that's fine. I'm not all that fussed about going anyway."

I smile at her. "Has anyone ever told you, you worry too much?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "No," she says. I can see her trying not to smile now.

"You should go and have fun with your friends, Katie and I can entertain ourselves for a night," I tell her. If anyone deserves a night out with their friends, it's her.

She's about to say something back but my phone starts buzzing loudly in my pocket. I drop the dish towel and pry it out. "Oh, it's my brother," I gasp when I see Ryan's name flashing across the screen. I was starting to think he wasn't going to call me back.

"Hello?" I answer, taking a seat at the table.

" _Hey, Britt-Britt. Sorry it took me so long to call you back, work's been crazy."_

"That's okay." I sigh. It feels good, hearing his voice. It reminds me that I do still have a family.

" _How's it going? I feel like I haven't seen you in years, when was our last movie night?"_

"Like, three weeks ago?" It used to be every week but now it's more like once a month if we're lucky. "Um, Ryan, I need to talk to you about stuff."

" _Okay, what kind of stuff? And stop sounding so serious, you're freaking me out."_

I let out a heavy breath, I can see Santana has stopped what she's doing out of the corner of my eye. I have no idea how to explain this without upsetting him, he's so close with our Mom. "Mom's gone."

"… _Gone? What d'you mean?"_

"She left… and, she left Katie with me." I say it almost as a whisper, like it's somehow going to make it sound less horrible.

I can just hear him breathing on the other end of the line for a few seconds before he speaks again. " _Well, where did she go?"_

"I don't know, she didn't say. I came home Saturday and Katie was alone in my apartment and there was a note, but it just said she needed a break."

" _What, that's all it said?"_

"Pretty much."

" _Jesus,"_ he whispers, " _have you spoken to Richard? Does he know?"_

"No, he's not answering his cell. You're the only person I've been able to get a hold of so far."

" _Okay, well I'll try and call him. Do you have everything you need? Is there anything I can do?"_

"No, we're okay, thanks. I'm staying with a friend actually. Long story, but we're okay."

" _Okay,"_ he breathes _,_ and then he curses so loudly that I jump _, "fuck! I can't believe she did this. That bitch!"_

"Hey," I say reproachfully, "don't call her that."

" _Why not? She's completely fucked you over, Britt. And she's abandoned her own daughter."_

"She's still our Mom." My heart starts beating hard, like it usually does when I disagree with someone. I really want this conversation to be over now. I knew he would be angry, but I don't want him to think bad things about our Mom. She didn't mean for any of this to happen. She just panicked.

" _She's selfish!"_ he practically yells.

"She was sad, and we didn't even notice, I don't think _she's_ the selfish one," I tell him, my voice wavering.

" _Brittany,"_ he whispers and I hear him let out a heavy breath.

"I don't understand why Richard didn't stop her," I say before he can talk again, "He wouldn't go along with this, I don't… I don't understand."

" _Wait, you didn't know?"_

"Know what?"

_"Richard left, like a month ago, he's staying with his Mother in Columbus. Mom told me a couple weeks after it happened."_

It feels like he reaches through my chest and starts squeezing as hard as he can at my heart when he says that. I screw my eyes shut to try and get a handle on myself. I don't want to just burst into tears in Santana's kitchen while she's standing right there but that's exactly what I feel like doing. Mom told Ryan but she didn't tell _me?_ I know they've always been closer but I didn't think I was _this_ out of the loop.

" _Britt?"_ I hear his voice gently trying to coax me into saying something at the same time as I feel Santana's hand on my shoulder. I don't dare look at her.

"Yeah?" My voice is all thick and funny.

" _You okay?"_

"She never told me."

"… _Yeah… Maybe there just wasn't a good time,"_ he says.

"Yeah," I agree, even though that's not true. We saw each other almost every day after school.

" _Hey, how about Dustin and I give you and your friend a break this weekend? We could come and get Katie Friday and bring her back Sunday."_

"What? No, you don't have to do that."

" _I want to, I wanna spend some time with my baby sis. And you can go get your nails done or spend a couple days alone with Sam or whatever."_

 _Crap_ , I still haven't told him about Sam. That can wait until the weekend, I guess. "Okay," I sigh.

" _Great, well I'll call you again during the week, okay? I gotta run now, I'm doing the graveyard shift at the hospital."_

"Okay, I'll talk to you soon then."

" _Yeah, are you sure you're okay and you don't need anything?"_

"Yeah I'm fine, thank you."

" _Okay, love you, Britt-Britt."_

"Love you too." The line goes dead and I put the phone on the table. I forget that Santana is standing behind me until I feel her squeeze my shoulder.

"Everything okay?" she asks.

"Yeah." I nod.

"You sure?"

"Uh-huh." I turn and give her the best smile I can manage right now and she lingers for a moment before taking her hand away and nodding.

"Do you mind if I go to bed?" I ask.

She looks at the clock on the wall. "Sure, of course. You know it's only nine o'clock, right?"

"Yeah, I'm just super tired." I stand up and tuck my chair under the table before grabbing my phone. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay… goodnight."

"Goodnight," I say with my back to her as I leave the room. I don't let myself look back until I've reached the bathroom.

Hot tears roll down my cheeks as soon as I shut the door and I frantically wipe them from my face. This is so stupid; I don't even know why I'm so upset. My Mom has always been closer to Ryan than me, just like I'm closer with our Dad. It's always been this way, they're like best friends. Of course she would tell him first. And maybe she just didn't say anything to me because I'm always with Katie when I see her. I just don't understand; if she trusts Ryan so much more than me, why am _I_ the one she left Katie with? It doesn't make any sense.

I take deep breaths and try to calm the swell of thoughts that are bubbling up and threatening to overwhelm me. I lean back against the door and close my eyes until my chest doesn't hurt so much and the tears stop falling.

I wash my face and brush my teeth and tip-toe quietly to my room so that I don't disturb Santana, I think she's in the living room now.

When I lay on my bed I sink into it and let it swallow me whole. I know I only told Santana I was sleepy so that she wouldn't think it was weird that I'm going to bed so early, but I'm actually pretty tired now that I'm laying down.

Even the traffic outside sounds muffled and far away tonight. I let my eyes drift closed as all the sounds and feelings and thoughts of my Mom drift further and further away.

And then everything's loud again, too loud. I sit up, startled by the sound of a truck revving on the street outside. Santana was right, this room really is noisy. I didn't really notice it last night because I was so tired I just fell asleep right away. Right now I'm not sure how I managed to sleep through this at all, all I can hear are engines purring and tires slicking along the damp street.

I reach blindly for my phone on the bedside table to check the time, almost midnight. I don't even remember going to sleep.

I lie back down and try to block out the sound outside with a pillow but it's no use, I've always been a super light sleeper unless I'm drunk.

I think about maybe sneaking into Katie's room and just sharing with her, God knows her bed is big enough, but I don't want to wake her up. Plus I'm pretty sure Lizard is sharing with her anyway, I don't think she'd take too kindly to being kicked out.

I decide to get up and go pee while I'm awake. The hallway is kind of dark and creepy and quiet, which means Santana must have gone to bed. I walk extra carefully to make sure I don't knock anything over or make a noise.

While I'm washing my hands I notice how big the bathtub is. It's huge. When I was little I used to sleep in the bathtub at my Mom's house sometimes. It's always fun sleeping somewhere that isn't your bed. Maybe I could do that now... I could go grab my blanket and pillow and sleep in the bathtub. It's way quieter in here than in my room.

I tip-toe to the bedroom and back to the bathroom with my bedding bundled up in my arms. My heart beats so loudly when I get to the bathroom door because it's right opposite Santana's bedroom and I really don't want her to catch me doing this.

I arrange the blanket in the tub so that it's doubled over like a sleeping bag before I get in so that I don't have to sleep directly on the cold porcelain. It's actually pretty comfortable once I'm snuggled up and it doesn't take long for my eyes to start feeling droopy.

But it feels like as soon as I've closed my eyes I'm opening them again. I know it's been a while though because my legs are all tangled up in the blankets like they always get at night. Someone is saying my name, I think that's why I woke up. And it's all echoey because, I remember, I'm in the bathroom.

"Britt?"

"Hmm."

"Britt, what are you doing?"

My brain gets less fuzzy and my face starts burning as I remember where I am and see who it is crouching next the tub. I sit bolt upright and feel Santana's hands suddenly against my shoulders holding me still.

"Whoa, whoa, It's okay. It's just me," she soothes.

"I'm sorry," I croak out. My mouth feels so dry. I can't believe she caught me in here, this is so embarrassing. I don't even think it's morning yet. It's still dark.

"Don't be." She smiles at me and takes her hands away. "But, why are you sleeping in the bathtub?"

I look down and start fiddling with the blanket. "I couldn't sleep." I shrug.

"Because of the noise?"

I nod reluctantly.

"Okay, well we can switch, come on." She grabs my hand but I yank it away.

"No, we're not doing that. You've done enough, you're not giving up your bed for me too."

"Okay," she sighs, "well, we can share?"

I shake my head. "I'll be okay, really. I slept fine last night."

Her whole body seems to deflate when I say that. "Okay." She stands up and when I expect her to walk out of the room she steps into the tub instead. "Then I'll just have to come in here with you."

She kneels in front of me and I bend my knees and tuck my legs up beside me to give her room before raising my eyebrows at her. She just shrugs.

"Well if you're gonna be awkward." She smirks.

We sit in silence for a few minutes and it's actually surprisingly comfortable, her sitting with me is kind of soothing and I could probably fall asleep again if I wasn't sitting up.

I look at her face when I hear her stifling a giggle. "What?" I ask, smiling. She has a cute laugh.

"Only you would think sleeping in the bathtub is an acceptable alternative to sleeping in a noisy room." She shakes her head and giggles again.

"Shut up," I whisper and push her playfully on the arm. I feel my face start getting hot again. "How did you know I was in here?"

"I saw your bedroom door was open when I went to get a glass of water, and you weren't in there."

"Oh," I breathe out.

She reaches over and takes my hand in both of hers, rubbing her thumb over the back of it. I hum softly because I like it when she does that, and I want her to know.

"Was everything okay earlier?"

"Yeah, just family stuff." I shrug.

"Like what?" She says it so softly that it makes me want to tell her everything, even though I know I shouldn't.

"My Step-Dad left my Mom like, a month ago. That's probably why she was so sad and needed a break."

She keeps stroking her thumb over my hand and doesn't say anything so I keep talking.

"She told Ryan but she didn't tell me." I whisper it because I still feel ridiculous, getting so upset about it.

She stops stroking the back of my hand and just squeezes it tightly between her own, but she still doesn't say anything for a few moments.

"You know that day I came to your apartment? With Sam and Puck and Quinn?" she says, finally.

"Yeah."

"You know I was a little late?"

I nod my head.

"Well, it's because I was on a date… with a guy."

I snap my eyes up to look at her face when she says that.

"He's my Mom's friend's son. When I first moved back to Lima my Mom called his Mom and had her set us up. It was supposed to be dinner but I managed to talk him into doing lunch instead."

She looks away from my face and at something behind me, or maybe she's not looking at anything at all, she just wanted to look away. Sometimes it's hard to make eye contact when you're talking about hard things. And I don't think she's used to saying things like this.

"I told him about me, right away, because I didn't wanna lead him on or anything, but I should've just refused to do it in the first place."

I remember her saying something about her Mom wanting her with a guy, but I didn't know it was this serious.

"Your Mom knows about you, right? You said Quinn's parents…"

"Oh yeah, she knows. She just chooses to ignore it." She shrugs and then looks down at our hands. "I know I shouldn't have agreed to it, I just… want her to like me, you know?" Her voice is so quiet and gentle that it pulls me closer to her. "I know that probably sounds stupid."

"No," I say and shake my head, because _God_ , I understand that feeling, probably more than I could ever explain. Maybe that's why she told me, because she knows I'll understand. Or maybe she told me so that _I_ know _she_ understands, either way I'm glad she did.

"I understand," I whisper.

"You do?" she whispers back, because whenever someone whispers it always makes you feel like you should whisper too.

"Yeah, I know how you feel."

And then she does something I wasn't expecting at all. She takes one of her hands away from mine and threads it through my hair, pulling my face towards hers.

I think my heart just about leaps up into my throat when I feel her lips against mine. Her free hand grips at my thigh over the top of the blanket as she leans her whole body into me. She just holds my bottom lip between hers for a moment before parting our lips slightly. Her tongue licks softly across the inside of my top lip and it sends goose bumps prickling down my spine.

Her grip on my hair tightens as she pulls me deeper and harder into the kiss and I can't help the tiny whimper that escapes when her tongue dips and glides across mine.

She closes her lips around my mouth and when she parts them again I push my tongue through them and slide it against hers. The moan she lets out vibrates against my lips and sends the tingles in my tummy shooting straight between my legs. I have to pinch my thighs together super tight to keep them under control.

I feel so hot all of a sudden, hot and sticky. She's clogging up all my senses but in the best possible way.

I feel her hand move from my thigh to my ribs, gripping the material of my sleep shirt as we keep kissing, deep and slow. I put my hands on her waist and let them slip under the hem of her tank top to feel her burning skin.

She strokes her tongue against mine inside my mouth before pulling it out and letting our lips close and smack against each other, then she does it all over again, and again, and again until her hand is clutching uncomfortably tight at my hair and I feel like I'm going to pass out from how hot and dizzy she's making me feel.

She's so good at kissing.

She pulls away just as I think I won't be able to take it anymore and rests her forehead against mine, her hand sliding out of my hair and cupping my cheek.

"Was that okay?" she whispers, breathing really heavy.

I nod quickly because that was more than okay. I'm pretty sure it was the best kiss ever. I tell her that as she pulls away.

My eyes stay closed for a few seconds while I wait for the tingles in my tummy to die down a little. When I finally manage to open them Santana is smiling at me, a calm, warm smile and I can't help but grin back.

"So, are you really going to make me sleep in a bathtub or can we go to bed?" she asks, her smile turning playful.

"Bed," I manage, nodding.


	12. We Share the Same Skies Part II

**Wednesday**

I've never watched somebody sleep before, but I've always wanted to - like they do in the movies. I think it's super sweet and romantic; but Sam always used to wake up before me, and with all the other guys I was with in high school, well, I don't think I ever even stayed the night.

I'm glad the first time I get to do it is with Santana though; I've never seen her face look this way before, so smooth and calm and easy. Like the worries that are written all over it during the day have been wiped away. And the sunlight seeps in so easily through her gauzy curtains that it makes her skin glow and look almost golden.

When a stray piece of hair falls over her face I can't stop myself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear again. The skin on her cheek is so soft and smooth and I make sure to be super gentle as my fingers brush across it. It reminds me of when I was little and I would catch butterflies in the back yard with my brother. I knew I wasn't supposed to touch their wings but they were so soft I just couldn't help it, and I was always really careful not to brush away any of the dust. That's what Santana's skin is like; a butterfly's wing – only prettier.

I flinch and jerk my hand away when her eyes start flickering. I hold my breath and try not to move because I don't want her to wake up yet - we have at least half an hour before we have to start getting ready for work and I feel bad that she felt she had to share her bed with me last night, I want her to sleep as long as she can – but it doesn't work.

I want to feel bad but as much as I loved watching her sleep, I think I like it when she's awake a whole lot better. When she's awake I get to look at her eyes; and she really does have the best eyes ever. Sometimes they look like chocolate buttons and sometimes they look like the ocean at night, right now they're chocolate buttons.

Actually, right now her whole face is all scrunched up and confused like a puppy; maybe she forgot she let me sleep here. I hope she didn't, because that would mean she forgot our kiss in the bathtub and then hugging me to sleep. It's funny how I sleep so well cuddling with her and I never could with anybody else. Maybe it's because her boobs make her chest a lot more comfortable to lie on than a guy's, or maybe it's because her hugs are so relaxing they make me feel like I've been swallowed by a cloud. Either way last night made me want to fall asleep hugging her every night forever.

"Morning," she croaks, finally, as the creases in her face start to iron themselves out.

"Morning," I say back and smile. I want to say something nice to her; she should hear nice things right now, and all the time. Maybe I could tell her how awesome her sleep hugs are, but that might make her uncomfortable; I still don't really know what's going on between us or what we are and I don't think she does either. I guess I could just tell her that I like her chocolate button eyes.

"Your eyes look delicious," I say.

She snorts and buries half of her face in her pillow so that I can only see one of her eyes and half a shy smile.

"If you say so," she says, her voice still thick and groggy from sleep, "what time is it?"

I look at the clock on the bedside table behind her head, "Just after seven."

Santana groans and rolls onto her back. "Why are we awake before we have to be?" she asks, tilting her head to look at me.

My heart buzzes a little at that and I feel my cheeks burn. I'm awake because I'm not used to it being this light in the morning; the curtains in my apartment block out the light pretty well. But _she's_ awake because I touched her face and woke her up. I'm too embarrassed to tell her that so I just give her a half shrug with the shoulder that isn't smushed into the mattress.

She shifts so that she's on her side again and looks at my face for a few seconds. "Did you sleep okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, I slept really good. Did you?"

She smiles and nods against her pillow, but doesn't say anything. I want to say more things to her but I'm not sure what. I don't know what everything that's happened in the last two weeks means, I almost feel dizzy from how fast everything has changed. And I _definitely_ don't know what the things that happened last night mean.

All I know is Santana kissed me in the bathtub and it was awesome and then we fell asleep together. Maybe I could just cuddle with her again until we have to start getting ready and we won't have to say anything, at least for now.

I start scooting towards her and I think she knows what I'm going to do right away because she rolls onto her back again and leaves her arm flat against the mattress, like she's inviting me in.

I curl into her side, snug and tight, as she wraps both of her arms around my shoulders. Maybe she was thinking the same thing I was because she doesn't say anything either; we just lay there, and I think it's one of the best mornings I've had in a really long time.

/

"I haven't been to Breadstix in years," says Santana as we wait to be seated, "I think the last time was just after my high school graduation."

"I've never been here. You do like it, right? We could've gone somewhere else." I must have told her that fifty times already this evening. I always ramble and repeat myself when I'm nervous, I need to stop. I don't even know _why_ I'm nervous.

"I likeit here." She smiles, that's good; at least I'm not annoying her. "And you've lived in Lima pretty much your whole life and you've never been to Breadstix?"

"Nope." I shake my head and suck my lips into my mouth. Usually when I go out for food it's just for pizza or burgers. Breadstix is a little fancier than I'm used to, but I really wanted to take Santana somewhere nice.

"Me either," Katie chimes in. Santana and I both smile and look down at her, she looks so adorable in her little pink floral dress and matching sandals. I let her pick her own outfit because that's the most fun part of going out somewhere nice.

We get seated in a center booth, Katie and I sit on one side – the waitress brings her a booster seat because the table top comes up to just below her chin without it – and Santana sits opposite us.

I order macaroni and cheese for me and Katie and Santana orders the ravioli, then we order two cokes and a chocolate milk. Santana and I figured it probably wouldn't be a good idea to drink wine when we're in charge of a child and have work the next day. The waitress is called Betty – I read it on her name tag – and she's really nice and she even brings Katie a coloring book and some crayons.

She thanks the waitress after I prompt her, grinning and prising the crayons out of their box.

I help Katie color in part of a cartoon brontosaurus while Santana giggles at us, before Katie tells me I'm getting in the way and I leave her to finish the picture by herself.

Santana is smiling at me when I drop the crayon on the table and look up at her, it's tiny and you probably wouldn't notice it if you weren't looking for it but it reaches her eyes and it's so warm. It makes me grin at her and I can feel the tips of my ears burning from how dorky I'm being.

"You know, you really didn't have to do this," she says.

"I wanted to." I shrug.

Her shoulders move up and down with her sigh. "Okay."

"I like your dress," I tell her. It's white and floaty and I don't think I've seen her wear white before. She looks so, so pretty even though her cheeks are turning ever-so-slightly pink now.

"Thanks, I like yours too," she says.

"Thank you." I like my dress too, not as much as hers but that's probably just because she's wearing it. It's one my Dad sent me for my birthday last year. It's pale blue and has sequins around the hem.

I know that this isn't a date, because Katie is with us and Santana and I probably aren't there yet – but I can't help but think that is kind of what a date with Santana would feel like. Dinner and smiling and nice dresses and getting tingles in my tummy every time she looks at me. It scares me how much getting this little taste of what things could be like makes me want it for real. I'm just not ready yet, and not in the same way that I wasn't ready before. I don't care that Santana is a girl; she's way too special for me to let that frighten me away. But that burning hole that Sam left in my chest hasn't gone yet. It's only really a dull ache when I'm around Santana, but it's still there and I can't give her everything if I'm still hung up on Sam. And she deserves _everything_.

Plus I don't even know _how_ to date a girl. I mean, who holds open doors and stuff like that? Do we just hold open our own doors?

I guess it's not that important.

"Are you okay?" Santana's voice pulls the room back into focus and I try to remember what we were talking about before I let my thoughts run away with me.

I look at Katie to make sure she's still coloring before clearing my throat. "Yeah," I say, "Oh, I spoke to Tina today at recess," I tell her, mostly to distract myself from thinking. I just want Santana to have a nice night; no serious stuff.

"Oh, she finally answered?"

"Yeah." I've been trying to call Tina ever since I missed her call on Sunday but she's been pretty busy with the new house. "I told her about everything." I gesture towards Katie with my eyes and Santana nods.

"Yeah? What did she say?"

"She was pretty mad at my Mom." I mouth the word _Mom_ so that Katie doesn't hear, "she said some bad words…"

Santana pinches her lips together in a smile.

"And…" I pause because I'm not sure I should tell her the next part, it's not a big deal I guess but it's a little embarrassing.

"What?" Her smile gets bigger.

"She kept teasing me… about living with you and stuff." I look down and start tracing patterns with my fingers across the table top because I don't want her to see how red my face probably is.

I don't look up until I feel something small hit the top of my head and drop onto the table in front of me; it's a sugar sachet. Katie giggles beside me. When my eyes fall on Santana she's grinning so I throw the sachet back at her as she holds her hands in front of her face defensively. Katie giggles again and it's so adorable that I laugh too.

Santana watches her with a smile on her face and waits for her to go back to her coloring book before she speaks again. "She sounds like a good friend," she says.

I nod and look down at the table top again. "She is, she's my _best_ friend," I tell her.

The rest of dinner seems to fly by, probably because it's so much fun. Katie is really starting to warm up to Santana – not that she didn't like her before but I think she's starting to see her as more than just a teacher now – and they're so adorable together. I hardly say anything while we're eating, I'm happy just to watch them talk and laugh.

Santana gets up to go to the bathroom while I pay the bill and just as I stand up to go get our coats I hear my name being called.

"Britt? I thought that was you!"

My stomach drops for some reason that I can't explain as I see Puck and Quinn walking towards us, I think they must have been at the bar.

Puck pulls me into a suffocating bear hug as soon as he's close enough and then pulls back and holds me at arm's length. "I've missed you, girl," he says. I look at Quinn as she rolls her with a tiny smile on her face.

"We only saw her last week," she says, and gives me a brief hug too after Puck lets me go.

"Hey, Katie-kins." Puck grins down at Katie and ruffles her hair.

"Hey Puck," she replies but her hand tightens in mine and she turns her face into my stomach. She usually likes Puck a lot; he's great with her, like Sam, but I think she's getting tired.

"She's tired," I tell him and he nods. It's the first thing I've managed to say since they came over, I don't know what I'm supposed to say. Puck was only really my friend because he was Sam's friend, what if he's mad at me for breaking up with Sam? Does he even _know_ that we broke up yet?

"I told him he's an idiot, by the way."

"Huh?"

"Sam," he says, "he's an idiot."

"Oh." It comes out as a whisper even though I don't mean for it to. I guess he knows.

"Puck…" Quinn says, ducking her head close to his and giving him a stern look.

"Well he is!" he says, looking back at her.

"It's not our business," she whispers.

And now I _really_ have no idea what to say, I don't want to be the reason Puck and Quinn are fighting. I open my mouth to say something, although I have no idea what, when I see Santana coming back from the bathroom.

She stills and pales as she approaches us and realizes who I'm talking to. I'm pretty sure the only way this could have been more awkward is if we had run into Sam and Mercedes instead. I must have noticeably looked at Santana because Puck and Quinn both look behind them.

My ability to speak seems to kick back in before my ability to think does because suddenly I'm talking without even realizing.

"Oh, you guys remember Santana, right?" Of course they remember her; Quinn went to high school with her. I'm so stupid for saying that, now they're going to feel uncomfortable because of me. I know that what happened between them still bothers Santana, how could it not? And Quinn probably feels super guilty about it.

"Yeah, hi," says Puck, as he nods and smiles at her.

"How _is_ Sam?" I ask. Maybe if I bring everybody's attention back to me Santana and Quinn won't feel so awkward.

"He's a freakin' mess; he's dating that Mercedes chick now, sort of," Puck tells me. I nod and then he shakes his head quickly like he's panicking. "I mean, he'd rather be with you. Well, he hasn't said that, but I'm pretty sure he does. How could he not, right?" He lets out a nervous chuckle.

I can't help but look at Quinn because I'm not sure if Puck wanted an answer to that or not, I thought she might have interrupted him by now, but her attention is focused completely on Santana; she's looking at her like she's the last clue on the crossword puzzle that she just can't get. When I look at Santana she's avoiding eye contact with everybody by looking down at the floor.

"You should talk to him, he said you've been ignoring his calls." Santana snaps her eyes to my face as soon as the words leave Puck's mouth. My heart jolts and I feel it beating in my ears. Sam _has_ been trying to call me, a lot actually, and I have been ignoring him; I know it's mean but I have no clue what to say to him. I just really didn't want Santana to know; I didn't want her to worry or have to think about my problems any more.

"I know he's been a total douche," Puck continues, "but, maybe you could give him another chance?"

"Noah," Quinn finally chimes in and I know she's mad because she only calls him _Noah_ when he's done something to annoy her. She gestures towards Katie with her head and it makes me look at her as well.

She's got her chin pressed against my stomach and if she didn't look so tired I'm pretty sure she would be looking very confused. I feel my heart sink as I remember, all-of-a-sudden, that she doesn't know about me and Sam yet.

I start fiddling with her hair and look back at Puck and Quinn. "I should probably get her home," I tell them. Puck nods in resignation.

They both hug me again before we leave, Puck's is another tight bear hug. "Don't be a stranger, okay?" he says as he pulls back.

"I won't," I tell him.

They bid a polite farewell to Santana, which she returns, and then we leave.

/

We drive home in silence and I'm not sure if Santana is mad or upset or both that I didn't tell her about the phone calls from Sam. I want to ask her or apologize or something, so bad, but I don't want Katie to over-hear so I don't say anything.

Katie is asleep by the time we get back to Santana's apartment. I groan with effort as I lean down and scoop her out of the back seat.

I decide to change into some pajama shorts and a t-shirt once I've tucked her up in bed. It's not late or anything, we went to dinner early because of Katie and I don't think it's even nine o'clock yet, but I figured I might as well dress comfy.

When I head back to the living room I see Santana's done the same, except she's wearing a tank top and not a tee shirt and I have to try really hard not to look at things that I shouldn't be looking at.

"I uh… I tivoed a shark documentary for you, did you want to watch it?" she asks distractedly as she points the remote at the TV without looking at me.

I tell her, "Yes," and grin because it's sweet that she remembered I like sharks. I think it was one of the first things I told her when we started having lunch together.

We settle down on opposite ends of the couch as the show starts. "Thank you for dinner," she says, her words hushed and quick.

"You're welcome." I look at her and smile because she seems restless. She keeps fidgeting in her seat and moving her hands around.

"It was nice," she adds and it makes me smile even bigger.

"Yeah." It _was_ nice, even if it ended in an awkward way.

We go back to watching the documentary after that; I've actually seen this one before but I don't mind watching it again, it's not like I remember everything it told me the first time around.

"So, Sam's been calling you?" Santana says, after we've gone a good few minutes without talking. I know she's probably been wanting to say something about it ever since we sat down because I have too.

"Yeah," I say, and I don't mean for my voice to come out as shaky and weak as it does. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I just didn't want you to worry."

"It's okay, you don't have to be sorry," she says. She smiles but she still looks sad and I don't understand why.

"I didn't talk to him," I tell her, "I… ignored him." I say the last part quietly because I still feel pretty bad about it.

"Do you _want_ to talk to him?" Her voice is gentle but she still looks nervous. I turn so that I can face her properly and tuck my legs up underneath me.

"I don't know, I miss him – but I think that's just because he was there for so long. It's like there's this huge empty space where he used to be," I tell her.

She nods slowly and looks down at her lap. I wish her face would stop looking like that. I can't stand her being sad, and I feel like I'm the one that's making her feel that way but I don't know why.

"I don't want to be with him," I say, even though I'm pretty sure she knows that. She _must_ know that.

"But you said you miss him," she says without looking at me.

I take a second to think before I answer, to make _sure_ I get the words right. "I used to think we were going to be together forever, I was _sure_ we were. I miss being that certain about something, it made me feel safe." I shrug. "He made me feel like I wasn't alone, but that's not really a reason to stay with someone. It wasn't fair to him… or me, I guess." I finish and watch her face as it relaxes a little.

She reaches over and grabs my hand, I think for a moment she's just going to hold it but she uses it to pull me over to her side of the couch. As soon as I'm close enough she wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls my head against her chest, then I snake my arms around her middle and listen to her heartbeat.

I let my eyes drift closed. I'm not sure how long we stay like that but I'm just on the cusp of sleep when I feel Santana's voice rumbling through her chest.

"That's probably the hardest part, you know?"

"What is?" I mumble. I don't realize I've turned my face so far into her until I feel my lips moving against her skin as I speak.

"Realizing your life isn't going to turn out the way you thought it would. When you're a kid you just take it for granted that you'll grow up and some prince will come along and sweep you off your feet and you'll live happily ever after. Then one day you realize that that probably isn't going to happen for you, and what do you do then? Nobody tells you what you're supposed to do." She lets out a heavy breath and I feel her rest her cheek against the top of my head.

I yawn and nuzzle into her collar bone. "I think sometimes a princess can sweep another princess off her feet," I mumble. I _know_ they can, even if that is a super cheesy way of saying it.

She squeezes me even tighter with her arms after that and doesn't say anything else.

**Thursday**

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Huh?" I halt in front of the door and turn back to Rachel. She's standing behind her desk, fiddling with the hem of her cardigan with a crazy look in her eye. I pivot so that I'm facing her completely and take a tentative step towards her so that she can tell me what's wrong.

"You…" She huffs and slumps down into her desk chair. "I thought we were friends."

I scrunch my eyebrows together; of course we're friends, why would she think we weren't? "We are," I tell her, dropping my purse on one of the kids' tables and taking a seat on the edge of her desk. I'm sure Santana won't mind if I'm a little late for lunch, she's probably just helping Emma wipe down the tables so that she can get rid of her faster.

"I know I can be…" Rachel stops short and pointedly looks away from me, the way her eyes look right now is really freaking me out. She looks like she has no clue what to say, or at least how to say what she wants to say.

I guess with anybody else it wouldn't be so bad, everybody gets a little overwhelmed or lost for words sometimes. Everybody _except_ Rachel.

"I know what people say about me," she continues, her voice trembling a little, "but I thought you…" She huffs out another sigh. I wish I knew what she was talking about so that I could try and say something to make her feel better. Is she talking about when people say bad things about her sometimes in the teachers' lounge? I didn't think she knew about that.

"People who say those things… it's just because they don't know you, you shouldn't listen," I tell her, because nobody should have to hear things like that about themselves. I should have done a better job explaining to people how nice Rachel really is.

"Then why don't _you_ want to eat lunch with me anymore?"

I feel something pinch at my heart when she says that; it's such a child-like thing for a grown-up to say that it's funny and sad at the same time. I know Rachel and I always used to get lunch together, but she mostly just talked to other people. I didn't think she would mind if I started getting lunch with somebody else. I feel so selfish now, for getting so wrapped up in Santana that I didn't even notice I was neglecting a friend.

"I do," I reassure her.

"But you keep having lunch with Santana." She shakes her head, " _Santana,_ of all people. She's not even nice, Brittany."

"She _is_ nice." Why does nobody see that? Are they _blind_?

"I just feel like you've ditched me for her or something. Look, I know some people find me a little… _intense_ sometimes, but I can try to tone it d-"

"Rach," I interrupt, "don't, you haven't done anything wrong." I would never ask her to change anything, I like how Rachel is. It's what makes her, her. "And I didn't _ditch_ you, Santana and I… it's not like that, okay?"

"Well what's it like?" She finally looks at me again; her eyes are so wide and worried that it makes her look like a kicked puppy.

"I…" My heart leaps up into my throat when I realize what she's asking, or at least, what the answer is.

"I'm staying with her." I feel my palms get all hot and clammy so I wipe them on the thighs of my pants and try to think of how I'll explain it to her. "We're friends."

"Staying with her? What d'you mean, like, at her house?"

"Her apartment, yeah."

"Why?"

I take a deep breath and then it hits me; I'll just tell her about what happened with my Mom and Katie. If I make it about Katie maybe she won't ask any more questions about me and Santana, and people at school are going to have to know sooner or later anyway.

So I do it, I tell her everything.

She takes it pretty calmly, all things considered, probably because she's happy that I'm confiding in her. And she actually _listens_ to me talk with no interruptions, it's not often she does that. It feels surprisingly good to say it all out loud; I kind of gave Tina the abridged version over the phone, and when I told Santana I was still in shock.

"Oh, Britt," she says, standing up from her chair, "can I hug you?"

I let out a breathed laugh. "Sure."

She gives me a brief, tight hug before standing back and leaving her hands on my shoulders. "Is there anything I can do?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No, thank you. We're okay." She still looks worried, except now for a different reason than when we first started talking. "I'm fine, Rach. I promise." I give her a smile and she drops her hands from my shoulders.

"Okay," she sighs.

"I probably shouldn't keep Santana waiting any longer." I stand up from the desk and grab my purse. "You know, you can come with, if you want," I tell her, "Santana won't mind."

She most definitely _will_ mind, but I'm sure she'll come around once she gets to know Rachel properly.

"That's okay, Britt. I have to call Finn anyway; wedding stuff." She smiles and starts gathering things up into her purse.

"Okay, well, see you after lunch."

"Yeah… wait." She stops what she's doing and looks at me again. "Just, please let me know if there's anything I can do, okay?"

I nod and give her a grateful smile.

Santana is already at her desk eating a sandwich when I get to her classroom. I've started packing a lunch for her too in the mornings since I've been staying with her.

"You took your time," she says, smiling as I take a seat in the chair she always puts out for me on the opposite side of her desk.

"Sorry," I mumble as I pull my lunch box out of my purse. "Rachel wanted to talk to me." Santana rolls her eyes, like I knew she would.

"Did she corner you? She did that to me in the teachers' lounge the other day. As long as you don't look directly in her eyes, you're safe."

And now I roll _my_ eyes. "Santana… "

"What?" she says, holding her hands up in mock defence.

"She's nice."

"So you keep saying."

"I told her about Katie, and that I'm staying with you," I blurt out with far less grace than I mean to.

Santana's eyes momentarily bug out as she swallows her mouthful of sandwich. "Oh. How come?"

"She was asking about me and you and why I wasn't eating lunch with her anymore, and she thought that I didn't want to be her friend and I didn't know what else to say so I just told her everything about Katie and my Mom," I tell her, my words clambering over one another.

Santana lets go of her sandwich with one hand and rests it on top of mine that's leaning on the desk. "Okay." She smiles. "Well… the school had to find out about Katie eventually anyway, I guess."

"Rachel won't tell anybody if I ask her not to." I shrug and Santana nods. "It's only been a few days, we don't have to tell the school yet, right?"

"Not if you don't want to." She rubs her thumb over the backs of my knuckles.

"I just want to give it some time, maybe everything will work itself out." I say it that way because I know that Santana will understand what I really mean. _Maybe my Mom will come back._

She squeezes my hand super tight and nods.

/

"Are you _sure_ you're okay with this? 'Cause I can call and cancel… I don't mind." Santana speaks from in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom as she checks her outfit; the third tight, black dress she's tried on this evening.

"Santana, go. We'll be fine; it'll be nice to spend some time alone with Katie," I say as I sit Indian style on her bed. I left Katie to play with Lizard in the living room after Santana asked me to come give my opinion on what she should wear. I'm probably not the best person to ask; she could wear a garbage bag and I would think she looked good.

"Okay, well I can leave money for take-out if you don't wanna cook, or-"

"Santana, we'll be _fine._ Would you take a chill pill?"

She shoots a lop-sided smirk at me through the mirror and raises her eyebrows before turning around. "What do you think?" She holds her arms out so I can look at her dress properly.

"Hmm… I dunno, can you twirl?"

She rolls her eyes but she does it.

"Okay, now the other way…"

"Britt!" She crosses her arms and tries to bite back her grin as I giggle.

"You look very pretty, okay? Just like with the last seventeen dresses you tried on."

She grins and approaches the bed, dropping down on her knees in front of me. "It wasn't _that_ many," she says and before I can reply she starts tickling my ribs. I gasp from the shock of it and fall flat against the mattress, laughing.

She follows me down and catches herself with her hands on either side of my head. My body gets so hot all-of-a-sudden and I hear my heart beating in my ears as she lowers her face towards mine. I feel myself going cross-eyed from trying to keep her in focus.

I'm pretty sure she's about to kiss me but the doorbell buzzes and she lets out a heavy sigh, resting her forehead against mine. "I told those idiots to wait for me outside," she whispers before pushing herself up off of the bed.

Katie is still in the living room when we get there, playing with Lizard behind the couch.

"I told you to wait downstairs," is the first thing Santana says as she opens the door.

"Well hello to you too," says Kurt, kissing her on the cheek and striding past her into the apartment. He's followed by a dark-haired guy in a bow tie who I'm guessing is his boyfriend.

"Hey Santana," the other guy mumbles. He gives her a kiss on the cheek too. I stay standing behind the couch with Katie leaning against my leg, clutching Lizard. She's gotten so much more timid around strangers lately.

"Blaine wanted to visit the cat," Kurt tells Santana before turning his attention to us.

"You must be Brittany," he says, smiling sweetly as he approaches. Katie sinks further against my leg. "You probably don't remember me, we met at Rachel's birthday party last year."

"Yeah, I remember," I tell him, "it's nice to see you again." I smile.

"You too, and this is Blaine." Blaine reaches out to shake my hand.

"Nice to meet you," he says.

"Nice to meet you too. Hey, sweetie." I look down at Katie who now has her face buried against my stomach. "Did you know Lizard used to be Blaine's cat? Do you think he could have a turn playing her for a minute?"

"Oh, uh, she really doesn't have to," Blaine stutters, but Katie is already holding the cat out towards him. "Aw, thank you, sweetie, I won't keep her long," he says, he takes Lizard and turns away, nuzzling her and talking baby gibberish.

I see Santana roll her eyes all the way across the room. After a few minutes of petting the cat with Blaine Kurt speaks up again. "Okay, we'd better go. Amy and Sebastian are holding a taxi for us outside."

Blaine hands Lizard back to Katie – that cat sure is cool with being passed around from person to person, the late Lord Tubbington would have freaked by now – before he and Kurt both say goodbye to me and head out the door.

Santana hesitates before she leaves, but I raise my eyebrows at her and she sighs in defeat. "I won't be back late, okay?"

"Okay, have a good night," I tell her.

She smiles and leaves, pulling the door closed behind her.

Katie told me last night that she was bored of _Goodnight Moon,_ so I borrowed some books from the school library to read to her at night.

She still insists, however, on saying goodnight to the moon once I've finished reading to her. It reminds me of something I thought of earlier today that confused me. She talks all the time about how she misses our Mom and that she wishes she would come back, but she hasn't mentioned Richard at all. I mean, he _is_ her Dad, I thought she would miss him just as much.

I want to ask her about it but I don't want to risk making her upset, she's been doing so good the last couple of days. It's a big thing that's happened to her and I'm in awe of how brave she's being. When you're a little kid your parents are _everything_ , I'm pretty sure when you're that age the whole world could be blowing up around you but as long as you had your Mom and Dad there you'd feel safe. I feel awful that Katie doesn't have that, but I don't want to draw her attention to it and make her sad so I settle for kissing her goodnight and heading back to the living room.

I look through Santana's DVD collection and try to decide on a movie to watch but nothing really catches my eye. Just a bunch of Hitchcock and David Lynch movies, how can she not have _any_ Disney? I'll have to get her some, she's totally missing out.

I end up just watching re-runs of _Friends_ again on TV until it's time to go to bed. I make sure to feed Lord Tubbington the Second and leave some food out for Lizard before heading into the bathroom to wash up.

It feels weird being in here alone; the apartment is so huge. I don't know how Santana didn't get swallowed up, rattling around in here by herself all those months.

Santana's bed feels cold without her in it, I wonder for a minute if it's okay that I'm sleeping in her bed. It's not like we said officially that I'm sleeping in her bed now, but I have the last couple of nights. I think about going to my room for a second but I really want a good night's sleep, I'm sure this is okay. Santana would have said if it wasn't, right?

I snuggle further into the blankets and let sleep pull me away from my thoughts.

The next thing I'm aware of is the bed dipping behind me.

It startles me and I turn over to see Santana settling in next to me. "Sorry," she whispers, "I tried not to wake you."

"That's okay," I mumble as I roll over completely and cuddle into her side.

She cuddles me back and kisses the top of my head as I nuzzle into her collar bone. "You smell good," I mutter. I feel her chest move against my face as she lets out a short, silent laugh.

"I probably smell like rum."

"No, you smell nice," I insist, "you always smell nice." I cuddle her tighter as she lets out a cute little giggle.

"Goodnight, Santana," I whisper.

"Goodnight, Britt.


	13. We Share the Same Skies Part III

**Friday**

"So, what are you gonna do now you've got the weekend free? Alone time with Sam?" Ryan winks at me from across the kitchen table and I take a nervous sip of coffee.

Santana suggested Ryan and I go have a talk in the kitchen when he got here, I think so we could talk about stuff with our Mom and maybe figure out some more permanent arrangements for Katie – not that I think that's necessary yet. So now she and Dustin are in the living room with Katie making sure she has everything she's going to need for the weekend and I'm in the kitchen with Ryan, fighting off a huge headache.

"Sam and I broke up," I mumble.

Ryan chokes on the sip of coffee he just took and puts the mug down on the table. "What? _Why_?"

"He uh…" _Crap._ Do I tell him? He'll just get mad and worry about me being upset. Maybe I should just keep it as vague as possible. "It wasn't working out."

"But why? Sam's great," he says reaching across the table for my hand. He looks worried, his eyebrows are knitted together and the creases in his forehead are showing really bad.

"We just… weren't." I put down my coffee and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Britt." He squeezes my hand tighter. "Hey, what happened?"

"Nothing, we… weren't happy, I guess. Can we not talk about this right now?" I drop my hand from my face and let it rest on the table next to my coffee mug. "I'm okay, I promise." I smile at him.

"But… Britt-"

"Please," I interrupt. He looks at me for a moment, his big, worried eyes studying my face before sighing and slumping back in his chair.

"Okay," he says, running his fingers through his messy blonde hair – he always tells me it's _strategically_ messy.

"So," I change the subject, "you're not working this weekend, right? I mean, Dustin is awesome and everything but I just think it would be best for Katie to always be around one of us right now…"

"Yeah, I already thought of that. I was supposed to be working tomorrow morning but I got a friend to trade shifts with me. I'm free all weekend." He smiles and I let out a relieved sigh.

"Awesome."

"Dustin's friend, Tommy, has a little girl around Katie's age so we're gonna take 'em to Magic Mountain tomorrow. Then maybe Zoombezi Bay Sunday if it's not too cold. She'll like that, right?"

"Yeah, she'll love it." I smile at him. It'll be nice for her to have some kid company too.

"So… what are we gonna do?" he blurts out after a moment of silence and starts fidgeting in his seat.

"Uh-"

"About Mom…"

"Oh… I… I'm not sure, what _can_ we do?" We don't know where she is and I don't really see what we can do until she comes back.

"Well, I tried calling Richard. I think he's changed his number, but I was thinking Dustin and I could go over to his Mom's place this weekend to see if he's still there," he tells me.

Wait. _What?_

"What do you mean?" I ask him, "With Katie?"

"Well, yeah. He _is_ her Dad, Britt."

I shake my head. _No_ , no this isn't right, my heart starts hammering inside my chest. "You can't unsettle her like that, what if he's not there? She'll get her hopes up for nothing."

"We won't tell her where we're going. If he's there it's a nice surprise for her, if not; she gets to see her Grandma." He shrugs.

I let out a shaky breath. I'm not sure I like this at all; Katie has been doing so good these past few days. "She hasn't even asked about him, Ryan," I say.

His brow furrows. "What d'you mean?"

"She hasn't asked where he is or said she misses him or anything. She asks about Mom every day."

"Right." He's silent for a moment and pulls his hand away from mine, running it through his hair again. "Well it's not really that surprising, I mean, he's never been around much." He shrugs.

"Huh?"

"Come on, don't you remember? You lived there too, Britt-Britt." He gives me a little smile, takes a sip from his coffee cup, and puts it back down again. "He was always working or hanging with his buddies or doing God knows what else. I can't really blame him; if I was married to Mom I think I'd stay away as much a possible too." He mumbles the last part.

I close my eyes at that, he's right; Richard _is_ away a lot. I guess it's not much of a change for Katie to not see him much. I _do_ wish Ryan would stop saying things like that about our Mom, though. In all honesty it makes me kind of mad when he does it.

"Okay," I sigh. I guess there's no harm in at least checking if he's there, and he might know where our Mom is.

"I won't let anything happen that'll upset her, okay? I promise," he soothes. I nod and give him a small smile. I know he won't, I guess. He loves Katie as much as I do.

"So, about the living arrangements – what are we going to do? I mean, if this becomes long-term?" he asks.

"Uh…" I stutter. I honestly have no clue. I don't know how I would afford it if I had to keep Katie for good, and then there's all that legal stuff Santana talked about. Maybe I could go back to my original plan and get a second job. "I'm not sure," I admit.

"I mean, you can't stay here forever. Who is this chick, anyway? You've never mentioned her before."

"She's my friend," I tell him probably quicker than I should, my voice thin and a little frail. Ryan has always had this way of talking that kind of loses me sometimes. He's always so fast and to the point and it feels like he reaches the finish line of our conversations before I've even heard the starter pistol. I know it isn't his fault but sometimes I feel really dumb when I talk to him.

"How come you didn't just stay with Tina?" he asks.

"She's got her own stuff to deal with right now. She's moving in with Mike and there's the baby and stuff."

"Tina has a baby?" His brow furrows but I'm pretty sure he knows Tina doesn't have a baby _yet_ , it hasn't been that long since he last saw her.

"She's pregnant," I tell him.

"Oh… wow, that's pretty grown-up. Tell her mazel tov from me," he says, relaxing back in his chair again. I can't help but smile at that, that's another thing about Ryan; he's almost impossible to surprise.

"So," he continues, "if Mom, say, didn't come back, and we can't find Richard - I'm pretty sure Nana would take Katie. Or Richard's Mom. Or Aunt Sally, she has a pool - Katie would love it there."

"W-what?" I sputter. "No! No, Mom _is_ coming back. And if she doesn't then Katie's staying with me." No way am I sending her away to live with another relative, I could never do that to her.

"Okay, okay." He holds his hands up defensively. "I just thought it would make it easier on you, that's all."

"Katie and I will be fine, you don't have to worry," I mumble. I'm not entirely sure that's true but I know I'll do anything to make sure she gets everything she needs.

"Okay." He nods and his eyes dart around the room for a moment before settling back on me. "Well, we'd better get going. It's a long drive and Dustin doesn't want to get back too late," he says. His chair scrapes across the floor as he stands up and places his coffee mug in the sink.

Katie is making up some kind of secret handshake with Dustin when we walk into the living room and Santana is sitting on the arm of the couch, watching them with an amused look on her face.

"Ryan!" Katie chirps when she sees us approaching. She throws herself into his arms the same way she did when he first arrived. It makes me smile. "Me and Dustin made up a handshake!" she tells him, grinning.

"Awesome!" he replies, "You'll have to show it to me when we get home." He puts her back down on the floor after a hug and ruffles her hair. "Are we ready?" he asks Dustin, a little quieter.

"Yep," he replies, swinging a duffle bag over his shoulder and patting it.

Katie turns to me and grabs one of my hands in both of hers. "Please come with us, Britt-Britt." She pouts.

"Aw, sweetie." I pick her up with a groan and hold her on my hip, it's not as easy to do as it used to be. "I can't, I have stuff I need to do. But you're gonna have such a good time you won't even notice I'm missing." I smile at her and she pouts even more, shaking her head.

"Well… a little birdy told me something about _Magic Mountain."_ I whisper the last two words and watch her face slowly light up with a reluctant grin.

She turns her head to look at Ryan. "Really?"

"Maybe," he says, drawing out the word and winking.

"Yay!" Katie jigs up and down in my arms as Ryan and Dustin exchange a sweet smile.

"Okay, we gotta go. Say goodbye to Britt and Santana, honey," says Ryan.

Katie puts both her arms around my neck and squeezes. I squeeze back, maybe a little too hard, and close my eyes. I know this is silly; she's going to be back Sunday evening. I just really don't want to let her ago.

Eventually I have to as she pulls her arms away. I set her back down and watch her walk over to Ryan, putting her hand in his.

I see them all out of the apartment and Ryan gives me a tight hug before he leaves. "I'll call you if anything happens, okay?" he whispers, pulling away and pecking me on the cheek. I'm not sure exactly what he means - if anything happens with Katie or if anything happens with Richard - but I nod and thank him anyway and close the door behind them.

Santana is standing right behind me when I turn around and it startles me a little – I thought she was still on the couch.

"She's gonna be okay," she tells me and starts rubbing her hands up and down my arms.

I nod and lean my head forward and let it rest on her shoulder, closing my eyes. I'm about to pull back again when I feel her wrap her arms around me and hold me in a tight hug.

"It's getting kinda late," she mumbles into my hair, "Did you wanna watch a movie and order take-out?"

I nod against her shoulder. "Sure." I'm not actually that hungry but I'll probably be able to eat by the time the food gets here.

We decide to get Chinese and sit cross-legged on the floor at the coffee table. Santana puts on some movie called _The Departed_ which isn't really the kind of thing I would usually watch but she tells me it's good. We don't really pay much attention to it anyway.

Santana also convinces me to try chopsticks even though I've never used them before. She even tries to teach me but I'm no good at it; I keep dropping my food and the one time I manage to actually get some in my mouth I get so excited that I cheer and accidently spit it back out again.

It's kind of worth to hear Santana laugh though. "See, I told you I can't do it. I'm too dumb," I tell her as she comes back from the kitchen with a fork for me. I would've got it myself but I'm trying to pick up all the pieces of fried rice I dropped on the coffee table and put it into one of the empty cartons.

Her face goes serious as she sits opposite me again. "You are _not_ dumb, Britt."

I smile at her as she hands me the fork. "Well I'm not smart." I shrug.

She rolls her eyes and sighs at me. "So, did you not have any plans tonight? Like with your friends or anything?" she asks.

"Well, Tina asked me if I wanted to have a girls' night in but I didn't feel like it." I shrug. "Did you?"

She shakes her head. "Kurt asked me to go out again, but, I guess I didn't feel like it either." She smiles.

I hope she's not just staying here because of me; I don't want her to feel like she can't have fun because I'm here. Maybe I should just go home while Katie is away.

"I can go home if you want," I tell her, "like, while Katie's at Ryan's, if you wanted some time to yourself I could go home for the wee -" I stop because she's shaking her head.

"No, don't be silly," she says, "I like having you here." She shrugs and goes back to her food and I can't help but smile at that.

We watch the movie and eat in silence for a little while before Santana speaks again. "Did you and your brother manage to talk about stuff?" she asks.

I know she's not asking _what_ we talked about; she's just asking if our conversation went okay. But I decide to tell her anyway because I think after everything she's done for us she deserves to know what's going on.

"Yeah, I told him about Sam." I look up at the ceiling, trying to remember everything we talked about. "I didn't tell him why we broke up though. And he's going to see if he can find Richard at his Mom's place in Columbus. And he said some stuff about _our_ Mom, but we didn't really talk about that for long." I nod when I'm finished. I think that was everything.

Her eyebrows knit together. "Why didn't you tell him about Sam or talk about your Mom?" she asks.

"I didn't want him to think bad things about them or get worried." I shrug. "Except I think he already thinks bad things about our Mom."

"Britt." Santana sighs and puts her food down on the coffee table. "Sam did do a bad thing, and so did your Mom. Aren't you mad _at all_?" She asks that question like she's been wanting to ask it for ages.

"No… they're not bad." I shake my head because I don't know how to explain, but when I do try to say something else Santana cuts me off anyway.

"Britt… he fucked another girl. _In your bed._ And your Mom just abandoned her own kids..." She stops abruptly and looks down at her lap, shaking her head. " _Crap,_ " she mutters under her breath. She looks at me again and her eyes are softer now. "I'm sorry," she half whispers, "it's none of my business, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I understand," I tell her. I _do_ understand; I know those are things that people would usually be mad about. And I don't really know why I'm not mad, or why I never seem to think what I'm supposed to be thinking.

She reaches across the coffee table and grabs my hand and I sigh as I watch her stroke her thumb across the back of it.

"I think it's easier sometimes to be bad than good," I say in a low murmur, "People think if they're the one doing the bad things then other people won't do bad things to them." I look up at her face now and she's looking back at me with such a gentle expression. "People only do bad things because they're afraid, I know my _Mom_ was afraid of something. I can't be mad at her for that." My voice comes out so weak because I'm not sure if I'm actually making sense and I shrug my shoulders again when I'm finished.

She stops rubbing her thumb over my hand and just squeezes it. It takes her a few moments to speak again and it looks like a million different thoughts cross her mind before she finally settles on one to say out loud, "And you say you're not smart," she says.

She gives me the sweetest smile ever and takes her hand away from mine so that she can finish her dinner.

/

We watch another movie after we've finished our food and thrown all the empty cartons in the trash. Santana lets me pick this time. I choose _Beetlejuice_ because she doesn't have much of a selection when it comes to funny movies and that one is sort of funny.

I cuddle up to her while we watch and then we decide to go to bed after it's finished. We each go to our separate bathrooms to wash up and I get a really funny feeling in my tummy while I'm brushing my teeth. It feels like nerves and all I can keep thinking about is how this is my first time being alone with Santana for the night. I don't think the night I caught Sam with Mercedes counts because it wasn't planned and I was asleep for most of it.

It twists my stomach in knots and I don't even know why.

Santana is still in her bathroom when I climb into bed, I've noticed she always takes longer than me to get ready for bed in the evenings. I think it's because she has more makeup to take off than I do. It takes her a long time to put it on the mornings so I guess it makes sense that it would take her a long time to take it off.

Sometimes I want to tell her that she doesn't need to wear so much; it must be a pain constantly having to touch it up during the day. But I don't want her to think I'm saying she wears too much makeup, because I don't think that at all; she looks pretty with and without it. But without it she'd get to sleep in longer.

I don't know why I'm spending so much time thinking about Santana's makeup rituals, probably just to distract myself from thinking about other things; like Katie.

I know it's stupid to be this worried; Ryan is perfectly capable of looking after her and she thinks the world of him. She's going to have a blast this weekend, but that won't stop me missing her and wondering if she's okay. I can't help but think sending her to _another_ home for the weekend was maybe the worst thing I could have done for her right now. It doesn't exactly scream: _I'll always be here for you and I'm never going to leave you._

If she didn't seem so happy to see Ryan when he arrived I probably would have called it off.

And Sam; he keeps calling me, and I even had a missed call from his Mom today. I know I'm going to have to talk to him eventually - I just don't know what I'm going to say to him. Maybe I could just say nothing and let him talk. I hate how we left things between us so much; but how are we supposed to change that after everything that's happened?

And then there's Santana; who's gone from zero to everything in two and a half weeks. I don't know how we've managed to get stuck in this weird situation where we're _living_ together and sleeping in the same bed and I think we both know what we want but we're too afraid to actually do anything about it.

She's been treating me like I'm made of glass ever since I've been staying with her, and apart from that one kiss in the bathtub she hasn't really hinted at us being anything more than friends.

Except I don't think friends cuddle the way we do, and I definitely don't get tingles in my tummy when my other friends smile at me or wink at me or stand near me.

I want her, I know that. I think I've known that since the second I met her. I just don't know if I'm ready, and I feel like a broken record even thinking that again. I have no idea how to be with a girl; I don't think I have a clue how to be with _anyone_ right now. I feel like I'm barely keeping myself together and if I got involved with somebody would that be fair on them? If they had to hold me up and stop me from crumbling?

Santana deserves somebody she can lean on if she needs to and I just don't think I'm strong enough yet.

But then, when I'm around Santana I _do_ feel strong, and thinking about Sam doesn't hurt as much, and I feel special and like I'm good enough just the way I am. She makes me feel like I could make her happy just by being me, and it's the best feeling I've ever felt.

I push the heels of my hands into my eyes and roll on my side. I _need_ to stop thinking. It's making my brain feel like it's too big for my head.

I jerk them away just as Santana comes out of the bathroom behind me but I keep my back to her because my thoughts are probably written all over my face and I don't want her to worry.

I feel the bed dip behind me and a cool breeze as she climbs under the covers and when she reaches over me to shut off the bedside lamp I grab her hand before she can. I don't want the light off, it's probably silly but there's no way I'll be able to sleep yet and I feel like my thoughts will be so much louder in the dark. I just want to cuddle with her for a little while, that always makes me feel good.

I pull her arm across my waist so that she's spooning me and I feel her relax and snuggle up against my back.

"Is it okay if we leave it on for a little while?" I ask her.

"Sure," she whispers against the back of my neck.

This feels nice. I take my hand away from hers and let it rest on the mattress in front of me so that she's just left holding my waist.

I feel so much better now that she's here, it's like she's made the swell of thoughts and feelings that I didn't know what to do with deflate into something far more manageable. I _still_ don't know how she does that; I should probably give up trying to figure it out.

I suddenly feel her fingers tickle across my stomach towards my ribs and it makes my muscles twitch a little. My tank top rides up and down with her hand as she begins stroking it up and down my side before she slips it underneath the material and I feel her fingers swim across my belly.

My heart jolts and starts thumping so hard inside my chest when she does that, not because I don't like it; just because I wasn't expecting it.

She places a tiny, fairy kiss on the back of my neck that makes my skin tingle as her hand drifts back to my ribs and starts moving up and down again, only this time _under_ my top.

I feel her shift and fit her body snugly against my back before leaning into the crook of my neck and kissing me there, soft and open-mouthed. Heat moves in waves across my skin from where her lips touch me and it seems to light my whole body on fire.

I feel self-conscious for a moment because she must be able to feel how hard my heart is beating, even through my back. And if she can't feel that then she can definitely hear how broken and uneven my breathing is. I feel her tongue against my neck and I let the goose bumps chase that feeling away until all I can think about is how much I want her.

Her kisses on my neck get rougher and faster and I feel her fingers dig into my ribs and knead at my skin. It starts up that electrical storm inside my tummy and I gulp and clench my muscles so that the tingles don't get too much.

Her hand slides up higher until it's resting just under my boob. She leaves it there as I feel her tongue lick a trail up my neck before taking the skin into her mouth and sucking. She lets her fingers dance nervously under my chest for a moment before edging her hand higher and squeezing.

My tingles turn into tidal waves when she does that and I can't help but let out a gasp and grab a tight fistful of the bed sheet.

She kneads and squeezes at my chest as she takes my earlobe gently between her teeth. "Okay," I mumble without meaning to. I don't know why I say that, my brain has gone so fuzzy.

Her thumb keeps making circles and brushing against my nipple and it feels so good that I have to close my eyes. No-one has touched me like that before; like they're doing it to make me feel good and not just because they want to touch someone's boobs.

I feel her hand slide to the side before she begins rolling my nipple between her thumb and her pointer finger. It seems to shoot my heartbeat straight between my legs and all-of-a-sudden I realize how sticky I am down there, sticky and hot. It makes me squirm and pinch my thighs together and clench my stomach to stop me from getting too many tidal waves in one go.

My breathing gets so shaky and I can't help the way my back arches into her. I think she's making me feel too many good things at once and I don't know which I'm supposed to focus on.

She lets go of my earlobe with a wet smack before her tongue licks around the shell of my ear and I shudder. I almost feel embarrassed at how worked up I've gotten so quickly, but I think she understands. Her breathing is shaky too.

She pulls her tongue away from my ear before whispering, "Are you okay with this?"

Is she kidding? I want to tell her _hell yes_ I'm okay with this. I never want this feeling to stop. But I don't trust my voice right now; I'm having trouble just _breathing_ normally.

I let go of the bed sheet and grab her hand that's still on my boob. My tummy trembles and shakes so bad as I slide it down to the waistband of my shorts before slipping it under.

She buries her face in the crook of my neck and mumbles something in Spanish as I take my hand away and let it rest on the mattress again.

I can't believe I just did that; I don't think I've ever done something so _forward._ My heart squeezes and thunders with anticipation and excitement and nerves until I feel her hand start moving inside my shorts and it just about backflips out of my chest.

She's touching me. I can't believe she's actually touching me _._

I feel just how wet I really am as she starts running her fingers through me. My tummy tenses and my toes curl and I let out a strangled gasp as I try to keep my tingles under control.

I'm pretty sure this isn't going to take very long at all.

I feel her nudge my thighs apart with her knee and she slides her leg between mine, propping them open as she starts making circles with her fingers.

She touches that spot right at the top that I always touch too when I do this to myself and a whimper skates past my lips as my whole body jerks forward.

I don't understand why it never felt like this when guys did this to me, or even when I do it to myself. It feels so much bigger than that; like she's winding me up so tight that I don't know how long I'll be able to hold myself together.

But then she stops and pulls her hand out of my shorts; it makes the tingles die down and the pressure ease off a little, but not completely. It is nice to catch my breath but I'm kind of confused about why she's not touching me anymore until I feel both of her hands at the hem of my top.

"Can I take this off?" she breathes and I nod.

I wiggle out of it with her help and then we settle back into the same position we were in before. I feel silly for feeling self-conscious about being topless in front of her; she did already touch my boob earlier and she just had her hand down my shorts. Plus she's behind me so she probably can't see anything anyway.

But the feeling goes away as quickly as it came when she snakes her arm under my neck and around my front and starts kneading at my chest again. Everything seems so much closer now that I can feel the material of her sleep shirt against my skin. Closer and _hotter._

Her other hand finds its way back underneath my shorts, and once again I don't know what to focus on because she's making me feel good in two places at once. Every time she rolls my nipple between her fingers it jolts to the place between my legs and makes the feeling she's giving me there feel even bigger.

I reach behind me with the hand that was on the mattress and grab a fistful of Santana's shorts to steady myself.

She's making circles with her fingers again, slow and gentle at first but then bigger and firmer. I can feel my body winding up like before, tighter and tighter with each circle and I don't know how much longer I can last until it snaps.

The whimpers I was biting back before start forcing their way past my lips now. They get louder and breathier the harder she pushes until she stops with the circles and slides her fingers lower.

"Can…" she whispers, breathless, and then stops. I think I know what she wants to do because I want her to do it too, she doesn't have to be nervous. I'd tell her that if I wasn't concentrating so hard on _not_ coming. I don't want it to end yet.

"Is this…" she stops again and I give her a frantic nod.

She slides one finger inside of me without even hesitating, it makes the pressure in my tummy get so tight and then she pulls out her finger and pushes back inside with two.

I let out a breathless, high pitched grunt, " _mmph,"_ as my body tries to curl in on itself.

I tighten my grip on her shorts as she starts moving her fingers inside me, twisting and curling and thrusting while her palm rubs against the place she was making circles on before and I'm pretty sure it's the best thing I've ever felt.

She squeezes my boob super tight as she goes back to kissing my neck and I can hear how heavy her breathing is now and I can feel how hot she is against my back. The way she keeps grinding her hips against my butt drives me _so_ crazy.

I don't even bother trying to hold back the breathy noises that keep coming out of my mouth now with each thrust of her fingers.

_Mmph. Uhh. Santana._

I think I would be embarrassed at saying her name like that if I could actually think coherently.

I can feel myself getting tighter around her fingers and it makes me squeeze her leg that she has shoved between mine with my knees. My hips start rocking in time with her hand, faster and harder and then that tightness in my tummy snaps and I feel those tidal waves from before washing over me, one after the other so that I can't catch my breath.

My whole body goes stiff against hers and I stop breathing completely and squeeze my eyes shut as my hand clutches impossibly tight at her shorts. I don't know how long it lasts but it seems like forever and not long enough at the same time and I turn my face into the pillow and gasp as Santana's kisses on my neck slow to a stop and I try to get my breath back.

My heartbeat feels like a humming bird inside my chest as I pant into the pillow and even when Santana pulls her lips away from my neck to place a gentle kiss on my cheek it doesn't do anything to calm the electrical storm that's not just in my tummy anymore, but all over my body.

Her lips stick to my cheek a little as she pulls away, I think I'm clammy, and she's super gentle when she pulls her fingers out of me but I can't help the tiny whimper that comes out. I feel _so_ sensitive down there.

She wraps her arm around me - the other is still tucked under my neck and around my chest - and pulls me back against her body in a tight hug.

"Are you okay?" she whispers into my neck once my breathing has evened out a little.

I just nod. I wish I could say something but my thoughts are going too fast for my words to keep up with them.

That was amazing, the most awesome thing ever. I want to tell her that, and I want to do it to her. And if I can make her feel half as good as she just made me feel I think she'll want me to do it to her too.

I turn in her arms so that I can kiss her but the way her eyes look stops me for a second, they're all glassy and she's looking at me like she's never seen me before or something. I don't think I understand, is she sad?

"I really liked that," I tell her in a whisper.

Her lips pinch together in a small smile and she nods. "Yeah, me too."

She cups my face and then slides her hand across my cheek, slow and gentle, threading her fingers through my hair and pulling me towards her.

Our kiss is so soft and warm and wet and just everything that's good. I feel like my lips should be melting from how good it is. Her tongue dips into my mouth and then pulls mine back out with it so that I can push it through her lips. My thighs already feel like jello but the sound she makes when my tongue strokes against hers makes them tingle so bad.

She slides her hand out of my hair and moves it to my waist, pulling my body tighter against hers and now I feel like all of me should be melting.

We keep kissing, slow and deep as her hand roams over my waist and up and down my back. It's so soft, the way she does it, that goose bumps erupt across my skin even though I'm still really hot. Her kisses make me feel so calm and peaceful and perfect that I almost forget what I wanted to do to her.

I use my body to roll her onto her back and I straddle her thighs as I try not to let my lips separate from hers. Once I'm on top of her with my hands on either side of her head, I feel her hook her hand around the back of my neck and pull me even deeper into the kiss.

Our tongues push against each other and her body rolls up into mine as she moans into my mouth and I'm pretty sure it's the hottest sound I've ever heard. It makes me want to kiss her faster.

Her hands tickle a little as they slide down my back and over my butt before squeezing and pulling me harder against her as she grinds her pelvis into me. I mutter out a stifled, " _Sa…_ " into her mouth. I'm still really sensitive down there and I'm pretty sure if she keeps doing that I'm going to come again.

And as nice as that would be I really want to make _her_ feel good so I pull away from her lips and sit up on her thighs before she can't distract me any more with her kissing.

She looks how I feel; flustered and breathless. Her lips are all puffy and her cheeks are tinged red and I can see how rapid and uneven her breathing is from the way her chest moves up and down.

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, she's probably wondering why I've stopped kissing her, until I reach for the hem of her tee shirt. I try to do it quickly because the way her eyes keep flickering between my naked chest and my face makes me want to hide.

I manage to slide her top up a few inches so that I can just see the bottom of her belly when I feel her fingers wrap around my wrists and still my hands.

"Britt… you don't have to…" she pants.

"I want to." My words rush out as I nod.

She hesitates before letting go of my wrists and sitting up so that we're face to face and I watch her hands as she grabs the hem of her tee shirt. The material slips out of my fingers as she starts pulling it up her own body, over her head and off her arms before dropping it over the edge of the bed.

I don't know why I'm so shocked that she isn't wearing a bra, I mean, who wears a bra to bed? I'm not sure where to look so I just keep my eyes fixed on her face, or more precisely, her lips.

She tangles one of her hands in my hair again as the other comes up to wrap around my neck before pulling me into another kiss.

She pushes her tongue into my mouth right away as her fist tightens in my hair and her fingers bite into the back of my neck. My tongue follows hers back into her mouth before our lips close around each other and smack together.

I squeeze my arms between hers and wrap my hands around the base of her neck to steady myself as our kiss gets more aggressive. She strokes her tongue against mine, deep in my mouth before pulling it out and closing her lips around my own. Then she does it again and keeps doing it over and over, and every time our lips close against each other her fingers dig a little harder into my skin.

I let my hands drift down a little so that they're resting over her collar bones and stop. I think they must realize what my brain wanted them to do because they start trembling and I can't seem to move them any lower.

I've never touched another girl's boobs before, or seen them this close up. It's not that I don't like them - far from it - I'm just not sure if she'll want me to do it. I really liked it when she touched mine but that doesn't mean she's going to be the same.

Santana's kisses start to slow down a little and I let her lead, following her lips with my own. Her tongue is gentler now as it grazes mine and her lips are so soft and dreamy, like kissing a cloud. She's hypnotizing me with her kisses and my hands start to shake a little less. I still keep them where they are though until I feel Santana put her own hands on top of them.

She slides my hands down with hers until they're cupping her boobs and she uses both of our hands to squeeze them.

My mouth goes still – they don't feel how I thought they would at all. I'm not sure _how_ I thought they would feel, they're hot and firm but soft at the same time and touching her like this makes me feel so, so close to her. I didn't realize it would.

She takes my bottom lip between hers and coaxes me into following her kiss as she makes both of our hands squeeze her boobs again. She holds them there for a moment, I think to make sure I'm not going to let go, before she slides her hands away from mine and along my arms and buries them in my hair and pulling me harder against her lips.

I hesitate a little and I have to keep reminding myself that she _wants_ my hands on her boobs. I give them another gentle squeeze as we keep kissing and then I start doing what she did to me - move my thumbs in circles, brushing them over her nipples.

She lets out a gasp against my lips and then forces my tongue back into my mouth with her own. Our kiss gets deeper and more frantic with every circle my thumbs make before I stop and start to pinch and roll her nipples between my fingers.

The moan she lets out into my mouth vibrates and against my lips and tongue and her fingers tighten in my hair.

I keep doing that until she's just panting into my mouth and then I slide my hands back up her chest and past her collar bones to wrap around the back of her neck. I let one hand move up a little further and thread through the hair at the back of her head as I guide her down to the pillow.

I can feel her boobs and her tummy against mine when I lay down on top of her and it sets my skin on fire again. It's not how I imagined at all - I knew it would feel good to have her chest pressed against mine, that was a given, but I didn't know it would feel _this_ good; like I could stay here, against her forever without doing or saying anything and never get tired of it. I take a deep shaky breath before I connect our lips again.

I don't kiss her mouth for long; I pull my lips away from hers and kiss across her cheek and down to her neck. Her skin tastes salty and sweet and she smells _so_ good, I think it's just her shampoo or maybe her body wash.

She's sweaty and my lips stick to her a little as I kiss down her throat, she tilts her head back to make it easier and her nails dig into my clammy back as I suck the skin there into my mouth.

I keep kissing down, past her neck and down her chest, between her boobs and down her tummy; I get distracted a little there because the skin feels so good against my lips. Well, all of her feels good against my lips, but especially her tummy. I like how her muscles quiver and tense and how she pushes her body up into me and the way she keeps brushing my hair back with her hands over and over.

I eventually manage to pull my lips away from her and hook my fingers into the waistbands of her shorts and panties. She lifts her butt off the mattress as I start dragging them down her legs. I drop them in a puddle on the floor after I've pulled them over her feet and scoot back up to her face.

I take her bottom lip between mine for a moment and pull back again. "Should I take mine off too?" I whisper. I don't want her to feel weird because she's the only one who's naked, and I'm already half naked anyway.

She gives me the sweetest smile and cups my cheek. "I'd like that, but you don't have to," she says, still a little breathless.

I sit up off of her and scoot so that I can pull my shorts off and drop them on the floor with Santana's, I wasn't wearing panties – I find them uncomfortable to wear at night.

I decide to leave the cover at the foot of the bed because it's so, so hot and it was kind of stifling underneath it.

My knees and my stomach tremble so bad as I crawl back up Santana's body and my heart beats quicker and more insistent as I settle between her legs so that we're belly to belly. I can't believe I'm about to do this, I have no clue what I'm doing or how to touch a girl like that. I guess I can just copy what she did to me, because that sure as hell felt good. I really want her to feel that way.

As soon as I'm close enough she pulls me by the back of my neck into another kiss, deep and wet and slow. I keep kissing her and let my fingers graze over her skin as my hand trails down her body. I can feel my entire body trembling when my hand stops at the bottom of her stomach.

I let my fingers dance in circles around the skin there for a moment until her fingers are clawing at that backs of my shoulders and her kisses are frantic and aggressive.

She gasps against my lips and stops kissing me as my fingers slip between her legs. She's warm, and _so,_ so wet. "Holy crap," I whisper by accident. I say it so quietly that, thankfully, I don't think she hears me.

I start doing what she did to me; I make circles on that spot at the top. And Santana lets out a slow sigh, almost like she's relieved.

My fingers fumble and slip a little because of the wetness and I pull back and look at her face to make sure I'm doing it right.

Her head is tilted back against the pillow and she's got her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and her eyes closed.

 _So_ sexy.

I start moving my fingers around a little, up and down and to the side and then circles again, a little firmer and faster than before. Santana's hand grips tighter at one of my shoulders while the other threads through my hair and pulls me in for another slow, lazy kiss.

I move my fingers down to the bottom again and stop; I want to do what she did to me, put them inside her. I want to know what she feels like and I want to make her feel as good as she made me feel. But as soon as my fingers are in the right place my hands and my tummy turn to jello. I realize I'm too scared to do it, in case I do it wrong or I hurt her.

It seemed so easy when she did it to me; once she knew I wanted her to she just slid her fingers inside without a second thought. Why can't _I_ do that? I guess it's because she's done this before with other girls. She knows what she's doing.

I don't have a clue.

I feel her hand, all-of-a-sudden, on top of mine and it startles me a little. I didn't feel her move her arm between our bodies. She softly guides my hand back up to where it was before.

"It's okay, this feels good," she whispers against my lips and starts kissing me again, dipping her tongue into my mouth and closing her lips firmly around mine.

It takes me a second to start moving my fingers again, probably because I'm not sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved. I am glad that she knew I was too nervous to do it, I know I would have done it wrong, but at the same time I _really_ wanted to do it. Maybe I can do it next time when I'll probably feel a little braver.

I hope Santana wants there to be a next time.

She stops kissing me and tilts her head back as my fingers get firmer between her legs. I lean down and start kissing her neck again; fairy kisses at first but then harder and open-mouthed.

I love the way her body keeps rolling up into mine, it makes our boobs and our tummies slide together and her skin feels amazing. So soft and hot.

I kiss harder and move my fingers quicker as Santana starts breathing heavier and digging her nails into my back. I know she's close because of the way her hips start canting and grinding into my hand.

I have to give up on kissing when one of her hands grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my face hard against the crook of her neck. It's a little uncomfortable but I don't mind, I think I'm too distracted by the way she keeps whimpering. Every sound she makes seems to turn my tummy inside out.

Her chest pushes so hard up into mine and I feel her freeze. Her fingers tighten in my hair and her and her knees squeeze my thighs together. She stays that way for a few seconds before she relaxes again; her body falls back limp against the bed and she lets out a stuttered gasp against my cheek.

I slow my fingers to a stop and pull my hand away from her, bringing it up to rest on the mattress just by our heads as she wraps her arms loosely around me. I feel breathless, not out of breath like Santana is, but like something literally stole the air out of my lungs.

I want to say so many things to her but I don't know which to start with, my thoughts won't slow down long enough for me to pick one out. And at the same time I don't think I really want to say anything, I just want to lay here forever and be this close to her. Or maybe even closer if it's possible, I want to melt into her.

My heart doesn't feel like it's beating right now, just clenching and unclenching. It's not unpleasant; it's warm and strange and makes me feel like I want to cry and laugh at the same time.

"Are you okay?" she whispers like she did before, her breathing still heavy. I think she just wanted to say something.

I nod into the crook of her neck. "I really liked _that_ too," I mumble and feel her shoulders shake with a silent laugh.

Her hands move and I feel her cup my face, pulling it up towards her and kissing me; slow and gentle and lazy. She rolls us onto our sides before pulling away and reaching for the covers, it's a little hot when she pulls them over us but I don't mind. I think she's feeling self-conscious about being naked and I probably would be too if I didn't feel so utterly content right now.

She leans over me to shut off the bedside lamp and I let her this time. The dark makes it feel a little cooler somehow. As soon as she lays back down flat I cuddle into her side and let her wrap her arms around my shoulders. She kisses the top of my head and my eyes seem to drift closed of their own accord.

I fall asleep almost right away.


	14. Signals Crossed

For the first time since I've been staying at Santana's place she must have woken up before me, because when I open my eyes she's not there and her side of the bed is empty.

I sit up and stretch out my arms with a groan, smiling at how warm the sun shining through the curtains makes my skin feel.

I remember that I'm naked all of a sudden and pull the comforter up to cover my chest. It's probably silly since Santana is the only other person here and she already saw me naked last night but I guess it's just a reflex.

I can't help the grin that takes over my face when I think about last night; it really was the best night ever.

I think the most wonderful part is that it wasn't how I imagined it would be at all; I always pictured dinner and flowers and candles and lots of kissing first. But we didn't have any of those things.

It didn't matter though, I'm glad it happened that way. It was so sudden and unexpected and I think it was better that way because I didn't know it was going to happen and if I'd had time to think I might have talked myself out of it. I think all the best things happen when you least expect them to anyway, or maybe they just seem better _because_ you're not expecting them. Either way it was amazing.

Plus all the times I imagined how my first time would be – at least before the last couple of weeks happened – there was no Santana. She was the best part, and there's no way my brain could have dreamed up somebody as perfect as her.

I glance towards the bathroom. I figured she would be in there but the door is open and I can't hear her moving around. I should probably go find her.

My clothes from last night are still on the floor and I decide to just throw them back on since I haven't even showered yet and I really want to find Santana as fast as I can.

Thinking about her as I'm pulling on my shorts makes my heart flutter; everything just seems so perfect right now. Even though I know it's not, not really. It's like the rational part of my brain that knows we still have a lot of things to figure out is being drowned out by some other part of my brain that's way too happy to care.

I always thought sex was just sex. Whenever I did it with Sam it felt good and it was always fun until I started feeling too guilty to really enjoy it, but it never seemed like there was a real reason for it, and I never felt like we were any different after. It was just something we did.

But it was different with Santana; nobody has ever made me feel that way before. I know that we weren't just doing it just because it felt good, it _did_ feel good, but it felt like so much more than that too. Like I was trying to show her something that I didn't know how to say with words.

And that feeling I got afterwards, like she was squeezing so hard at my heart I thought it was going to burst like a water balloon. I don't even know if that's normal.

I think I might be falling in love with her. I think maybe I already _am_ in love with her.

My heart jolts at the thought. Is it too soon for that? I haven't even known her three weeks yet and I don't want to freak her out. I still don't know what we are or if she even feels the same. She said she likes me, but _like_ doesn't mean _love._ I guess I just won't tell her yet, I'll tell her when she's ready. And even if she doesn't say it back, that's okay; it's always nice to hear that somebody loves you. And she deserves to feel good; she deserves to hear that I love her if it's true. Maybe I should tell her as soon as I've figured out how to say it right.

I find Santana in the kitchen, sitting at the table and sipping coffee. She's already showered and dressed and her make-up is perfect. I wonder why she got up so early on a Saturday, I don't think it's even nine o'clock yet.

She gives me a timid smile from behind her coffee cup when she sees me.

"Morning," I say, my voice a little thick with sleep.

"Morning," she replies.

I stand in the doorway and wait for her to speak again; I don't really know what to say. I probably shouldn't bring up last night, even though I want to so badly it's practically bursting out of me. I just want to hug her and kiss her and tell her how much I like her and how happy she makes me feel. But I know that probably wouldn't be a good idea.

When she doesn't say anything else I feel the tips of my ears start to burn and I'm really glad she isn't looking at me anymore because I'm positive I'm really red. I probably look so stupid just standing here in the doorway and not saying anything.

I'm just not sure how I'm supposed to act. The last time I had a _first time_ with someone was six years ago, I can't remember what you're supposed to do or say the next morning. I look down and start fiddling with the hem of my tank top and feel a pressure around my chest release when she finally says something.

"There's more coffee in the pot if you want some," she tells me.

When I look back up she's got her eyes fixed on the table top, sipping at her coffee, so I mumble out an, "okay," and go pour myself a cup.

"I didn't think you'd wake up this early," she says flatly as I take a seat opposite her. She's still avoiding my eyes and I'm starting to feel like I did something wrong.

"I think the sun woke me up, I'm not used to it being so bright in the mornings," I tell her and smile even though she's not looking at me.

She nods and takes another sip of coffee before talking again. "You could've just slept in Katie's room since she's not here. Or you can tonight if you want."

My heart skips a beat when she says that and I snap my eyes away from her face. I feel my throat tighten and I beg myself not to cry at something so silly. She probably didn't mean that the way I took it. She's just trying to make sure I'm comfortable; she didn't mean she doesn't _want_ me to stay in her room. Or that she didn't want me there last night. I'm pretty sure she didn't mean that. I _hope_ she didn't.

If she did that means she regrets…

"Britt?"

I look back at her automatically when she says my name and she's actually looking at me for the first time since I first came out here. Her eyes keep darting between different points on my face like she's trying to read me.

"Yeah?" I say and clear my throat because my voice is still a little groggy.

"You okay?"

I nod and try my best to smile even though my heart is still in my throat. It's like it's trying to jump out of my body to go tell Santana all the things I'm too scared to say. Maybe I _should_ say something; then she might say something back to make this feeling go away.

Or she might say something that makes it even worse.

"You're seeing your friend Tina today, right?"

I just nod again. Tina asked me yesterday, after I turned down her girls' night in offer, if I wanted to go get coffee today. It's funny how people always say _coffee_ even when that's not what they mean. Tina can't even drink coffee right now.

"That's good, I'm going shopping with Kurt and Blaine and I didn't want to leave on your own all day," Santana tells me. Her voice sounds strange, higher pitched than usual.

"Okay," I reply.

I don't remember her saying she was seeing her friends again today, maybe they just arranged it this morning.

We don't talk again until our coffee's finished even though I'm desperate to.

When Santana gets up to rinse our coffee mugs in the sink I walk up behind her and put my hand on her shoulder. I'm not sure why I do that, I just have no idea what to say and I figure it's better than doing nothing. I wish I knew what she was thinking so that I knew how to make this okay; the last thing I want is for things to get awkward between us. I don't want her to regret what happened but if she does I want her to know that that's okay and I'll still be her friend.

I want to be with her, but only if she wants to be with me too. And more than anything I just want her to be happy.

She keeps rinsing stuff in the sink for a second before letting out a heavy sigh and dropping the mug and sponge she was holding without turning around.

"Santana… I-" I stop and gulp because my voice sounds so shaky and I don't want it to. "Last night… I-"

"I shouldn't have let that happen, I'm sorry," she says, and I'm pretty sure I feel my heart actually deflate at her words.

"Oh," is all I manage as I take my hand away from her shoulder.

She turns to look at me and grabs one of my hands between both of hers. "Can we just forget it happened?" she asks, squeezing my hand super tight. "I shouldn't have… I'm sorry, Britt," she says. Her eyes look glassy and her eyebrows are knitted together, like just having this conversation is taking up all the energy and concentration she has.

I don't know what to say because I don't know what she's sorry for, she doesn't have to be sorry for _anything._ I look at the floor and try to keep my breathing even and stop the tears that are stinging my eyes from coming out. The last thing she needs right now is to feel guilty if she's this upset about what we did last night.

She keeps talking when I don't answer her. "We're still friends, right? I just want you to be okay."

I nod. Her voice sounds shaky so I force myself to look at her with a smile. I'm not sure how convincing it is, and I don't really know what she means. I was already okay, _more_ than okay, before we started talking about stuff.

She opens her mouth to say something else but her phone beeps and she pauses, letting go of my hand to fish it out of her pocket.

"Kurt and Blaine are outside," she tells me, looking down at the screen, "I have to go."

I nod again because I don't trust myself not to cry if I try to talk.

"Okay, well, I won't be back late or anything."

"Okay," I croak out as I watch her eyes dart all over my face again.

"I'll… see you later." She pauses for a moment, looking at my face with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, before brushing past me and out of the kitchen.

I stay exactly where I am until I hear the front door close a few moments later and let out a heavy, shaky breath.

It feels like something's coiled round my chest and is squeezing so tight that I can hardly breathe. I don't realize I'm crying until I feel hot tears start rolling down my cheeks and I wipe frantically at my face to try to get rid of them.

I have to put my hands on the counter in front of me to steady myself for a moment as I try to take deep breaths. Everything is starting to seem really far away and it's disorienting. I don't know what's happening and I can't make my thoughts slow down for long enough to figure out what they are.

Santana just wants to be friends - that's okay. I already decided that would be okay before she even said it, I just want her to be happy.

So why do I feel like I've just been punched in the stomach?

I manage to stumble back to the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed, clutching at my chest and squeezing my eyes shut as I wait for my breathing to even out.

Once it does I curl back up in bed again – Tina isn't picking me up for another few hours, so I have plenty of time – and pull the blankets up so they're almost covering my head. I know I shouldn't but I let myself cuddle up with Santana's pillow because it still smells like her and this might be the last time I get to sleep in this bed.

My eyes feel heavy all of a sudden and I'm glad to let sleep pull me under so that I get to stop thinking about everything for a little while.

/

Tina and I decide to go to the Lima Bean for coffee – well, she gets iced tea and I get coffee – just because neither of us have the energy to come up with somewhere new to go.

I feel like she has a much more legitimate reason for being tired than I do since I got plenty of sleep. I didn't wake up until ten minutes before Tina was supposed to pick me up and had to take the quickest shower ever.

But Tina was awake all night throwing up, she's just been telling me how she gets her morning sickness at night and that she can't wait for her first sonogram in a couple of weeks so that she can ask the doctor how to make it go away. I'm pretty sure there isn't a cure for morning sickness yet but I don't want to disappoint her so I don't say anything.

"You're gonna come with me, right?"

"Huh?"

"To my appointment. I don't wanna go by myself and Mike still doesn't know." She smiles at me from across the table. She has a kind of nervous, excited energy about her at the moment and it's really contagious, I can't help but smile back.

"Yeah, of course," I tell her, "when _are_ you going to tell Mike, though?"

"Right after the appointment if everything's okay." She shrugs and sips at her iced tea.

"Will they tell you if it's a girl or a boy?"

She shakes her head and sets her glass down on the table, "No, not yet. This one's just to make sure nothing's wrong, find out when my due date is and check that I've only got one in there."

My eyes bug out at that. "Wow, imagine if you were having twins… or _triplets_!"

Tina looks positively nauseous at the thought. "God, please don't. _One_ baby is scary enough."

I smile and reach over to rub the back of her hand quickly. "It's gonna be amazing," I tell her.

She nods and smiles at that and we drink our drinks in peaceful silence for a few minutes.

"So… did you wanna talk about stuff?" Tina asks, pulling my attention away from the street outside the window.

"Uh." I'm not sure what stuff she means, my Mom or Sam or Santana; I don't really want to talk about any of those things.

"You could have stayed with me, you know. You still can," she tells me.

"Oh, uh, it's okay." I shake my head. "You have your own stuff to worry about." I shrug.

"Well, you can. Just so you know. Although I'm sure you're having an awesome time staying with _Santana."_ She winks and I feel my face go red. "What's going on with you guys, anyways? Any progress?" She grins.

"Um… we-" I pause because I have no idea what's going on with us; I probably could have given her a better answer to that question yesterday. "I'm not sure." I shrug and try to keep my voice even.

"So nothing else has happened?" she asks.

The tips of my ears start burning and I look down at my coffee and start tracing patterns across the top of the table with my fingertips.

"Oh my God, something totally happened. Come on, tell me everything!"

When I look up at her she's grinning so big it's actually hard to remember how embarrassed I am that we're talking about this, or how confused I am about where I stand with Santana.

" _Everything_?" I ask, wincing. I'm pretty sure if she knew what _everything_ really meant she wouldn't want to know.

"Uh…" Her eyebrows knit together and then shoot up as realization seems to dawn on her. "Oh! Wow, you guys…?"

I hesitate before nodding and looking down at my coffee again. "Last night," I say in an almost-whisper.

"Wow," she echoes herself, "so… is that the first time you've, you know… _with a girl._ " She whispers the last part and my eyebrows knit together.

"Yeah, of course," I say and look up at her again even though my face is burning even hotter than before.

"Okay, just checking." She holds up her hands defensively even though she still has a cheeky smirk on her face. "So are you dating now?"

I shrug because I really don't want to talk about it. Santana made it pretty obvious that we're _not_ dating, or anything even close to that. I guess I should have said _no_ instead of just shrugging.

"You don't know?"

"I… think she just wants to be friends," I mumble.

" _What_? Did she say that?"

"Sort of."

"Oh… I'm sorry, Britt-Britt," she says reaching across to take my hand in hers.

"It's fine," I tell her.

"It's not fine, she…" She looks around us and leans further across the table. "She _slept with you,_ and then said she just wanted to be friends?" she hushes.

"I don't know, I'm… not sure."

She lets out a heavy breath as she settles back in her seat. "Well, then it sounds like you need to talk to her. But if that's what she did it's _not_ cool, Britt."

My chest starts getting tight again so I look away from her face. This is why I didn't want to talk about it, I knew it would make me sad and I don't want Tina to worry about this on top of everything else.

When I told her about my Mom she yelled so loudly down the phone it hurt my ear, and I'm pretty sure it's bad for pregnant ladies to get stressed.

"Hey." She rubs the back of my hand. "Are you okay?"

"I think I love her," I blurt out and slap my hand to my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. Why the _hell_ did I say that? I always do that; panic and say the first thing that comes into my head. But that was really stupid, even by my standards.

"Okay, and that's bad because…?"

I take my hand away from my mouth and look at her now. "Because now she just wants to be friends."

"You don't know that for sure yet…"

"I _think_ she does."

Tina sighs and looks around the room for a moment before focusing on me again. "Like I said, you need to talk to her."

I nod and don't say anything; I don't have a clue how I'm even going to _start_ that conversation. But that's not Tina's problem, I've already told her more than she needed to hear.

"And if she pulls that _just friends_ crap again, I'm not too pregnant to kick some ass, okay?"

I can't help but giggle at that as Tina gives me a sweet smile.

"Okay."

/

It's almost dark when I get back to Santana's apartment. Tina and I decided to go to the mall and look at baby stuff after we finished up at the Lima Bean. Then she got hungry so we stopped for ice cream, even though it's February and still pretty cold. She didn't buy anything – I think she's going to wait until she tells Mike before she starts getting things for the baby - but she saw some stuff she liked and it was fun.

She also offered to kick Santana's ass again before she dropped me off but I told her it was okay. I know she was only kidding but there's no way I could be mad at Santana just because she doesn't feel about me the way I feel about her. It's not like it's her fault and I'm willing to be whatever she needs me to be, even if that's just a friend.

I'm surprised to find Santana asleep on the couch when I open the front door; I close it as quietly as I can before tip-toeing over to the coffee table and setting my purse down on top of it.

I switch off the TV – I'm guessing she's been asleep for a while because I'm pretty sure she doesn't watch _The Dog Whisperer_ – before walking over to the couch and draping the blanket from the back of it over her.

I kneel down on the floor in front of the couch to look at her for a moment; she doesn't look like she did the last time I watched her sleep. Her forehead is all creased up and her lips are downturned and she kind of looks the same way she does when she's awake, just with her eyes closed.

I reach out and brush her hair out of her face, just like last time, and _just_ like last time I immediately regret it when her face scrunches up and her eyes flicker open.

I pull my hand back and whisper, "Sorry," as she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, she looks like she doesn't know where she is.

"What time is it?" she groans, turning on her back.

I glance at the digital clock on the DVD player. "Just after five," I tell her.

She groans again. "I guess I'd better start making dinner." She starts getting up but I stop her by putting my hands on her shoulders.

"It's okay, I'll make it. You're tired."

"You sure?" she asks, still pushing against my hands a little. I nod and she relaxes back, tilting her head sideways to look at me. "Thank you," she says and smiles.

"That's okay. Did you not sleep good last night?" I hold my breath because I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to that.

"I didn't really sleep at all," she says, and I feel my heart sink at the confirmation.

"You should have woken me up," I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady, "I would've kept you company."

She smiles again at that. "It's okay, it gave me some time to think, I guess. Not that _that's_ always a good thing." She shrugs as best she can with her shoulders flat against the couch.

"Think about what?" I whisper. It's probably a stupid question, she was thinking that we shouldn't have done what we did and that we would be better as friends. She pretty much already told me that this morning.

"I think you know," she whispers back.

I nod and look down as tears start stinging my eyes again. I silently beg them to stay inside but they don't. I watch a couple fall and make tiny wet patches on the carpet next to my knees.

"Hey." Santana half sits up, leaning on one arm and uses her free hand to cup my cheek and tilt my face towards her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I mumble as I turn my face into my own shoulder and try to wipe the tears away on my shirt.

She immediately pulls my face back so that I'm looking at her again. "It's obviously not _nothing,_ " she hushes.

I shake my head and let my eyes drift downwards so that I don't have to look at her face.

"I know we're friends," I say. I'm still having trouble keeping my voice steady because my lips are trembling and my throat feels _so_ , so tight. "We're good friends now and that's good. We can be friends." I nod and try my best to smile as more tears start rolling down my cheeks. I try to wipe them away before she sees them, even though I know she probably has already, her face is right in front of mine.

" _Brittany,"_ she whispers, wiping away some of my tears with her thumb. "I…" She gulps and when I let myself look at her face properly her pained expression just makes me want to cry even harder. All I wanted to do was tell her that it's okay and we can be whatever she wants us to be.

"I'm just trying to do the right thing…" she finally manages to get out.

I nod and wipe furiously at my face again. I'm so mad at myself for crying right now, she shouldn't be made to feel guilty about this.

"I feel like…" She gulps again and pauses to wipe away some more of my tears with her thumb. "I feel like I took advantage of you." She blurts it out so quickly and quietly it takes me a moment to register what she said. _Took advantage?_ Took advantage how?

I'm about to ask what she means but as soon as I open my mouth she sniffles and starts shaking her head and my heart sinks even further than it already has when I realize she's crying too.

"I'm so sorry, Britt." Her voice breaks when she says my name. She's still cupping my cheek and I put my hand on top of hers to try and tell her without words that she has nothing to be sorry for. "I shouldn't have done that. You've had all this horrible crap happen to you and I know you're sad, and I just shouldn't have done that." She takes a deep, steadying breath when she's done before shaking her head again.

I'm not sure whether to be happy or sad about what she's said. I don't want her to think she shouldn't have done anything _._ I'm pretty sure I wanted to do stuff just as much as she did, probably more. But I can't help but let it fill my heart with hope because maybe I misunderstood what she said this morning. I do misunderstand things a lot.

"Wait, so… it's not because you don't like me?"

"What do you mean?" She sniffles and pulls back her hand to wipe the last of her tears away, there weren't many, she didn't cry as much as I did. As much as I _still am_.

"You don't regret it because you changed your mind about liking me?"

" _Britt,"_ she whispers, taking my hand with hers and holding it on the couch in front of her. She gives me a tiny smile and I think it's the first time one of us has smiled since I got back. "Of course I haven't changed my mind. I just… I know you're not ready-"

I cut her off. "But what if I am?"

Her eyebrows knit together and she shakes her head again. "Britt, you don't have to say that. I know what I did was wrong, we can sleep in separate rooms… or, I'll understand if you want to g-"

"No." I clear my throat and wipe away my tears and _force_ my voice to be steady so that she knows I'm serious. "It wasn't wrong. I wanted to. I've wanted to since I've known you." She gives me a sweet smile and I try to ignore how hot my face gets when I say that. "I know everything's kind of a mess right now, I know _I'm_ kind of a mess, but you're the only thing I'm sure about."

She smiles even bigger and squeezes my hand.

"I really want to be with you," I tell her, "but if you don't want to be with me that's okay, we can be friends, or whatever you wan-"

I stop when I feel her hand on my cheek again and her lips on mine. I think it's the gentlest she's ever kissed me – all the other times were rough and hard and desperate – and it makes me melt. It's so good that when she pulls away I want to follow her to make our lips keep touching.

She rests her forehead against mine and strokes her thumb across my cheek. "Britt, are you _sure?_ " she whispers.

"Yes, very sure," I whisper back and tilt my face so that we can kiss again.

I feel her smile against my lips as I push her back so that she's lying flat on the couch and I can crawl on top of her.

It's still gentler than all of our other kisses and as she threads her hand through my hair to pull me closer I feel my heart clench inside my chest. I think it's trying to re-inflate itself and it feels good after a day of having all the air squeezed and punched and kicked out of it.

It flutters and jumps up into my throat when Santana pushes her tongue into my mouth and uses her free hand to wrap around my waist and pull my hips harder against hers. It feels like it's trying to jump out of my body to meet her again. Only this time, instead of wanting to tell her all the things I was too scared to say, I think my heart just wants to kiss her too.

I pull back, breathless, and look at her for a moment as she slides her hand out of my hair and goes back to cupping my cheek.

"I have no idea how to be with a girl," I tell her.

"It's okay, neither do I," she breathes.

I smile at that as she pulls me back down into another kiss.


	15. Gloomy Sunday

I've always wondered what people mean when they say that everything happens for a reason. I wonder why they think that and what those reasons could be and what it is that makes people _want_ to believe there's a reason in the first place.

Like right now, I can lay here in Santana's bed as I trail my fingers up and down her arm, thinking that she came into my life exactly when I needed her.

But I'm sure, if I really think about it, that there were other times before now that I needed her too, I just didn't know because I hadn't met her yet.

And what about her? Did I come in to her life when she needed me? Was there a time when she would have needed me more? Maybe when all that bad stuff happened to her in high school, I could have helped her and been there for her the way she's been there for me.

Then I think about Katie and wonder what possible reason there could be for her to not have her Mom and Dad with her. I don't think any reason could really be good enough to make that okay.

Or the fact that my Mom was so sad and desperate that she felt she had to run away. Or that Sam wasted six years of his life on somebody who was never really sure. Or all those bad things that happen in faraway places that are too terrible to even think about.

It's easy to have faith and believe that everything happens for a reason when things are going good, but it only takes a split second for everything to change.

I guess that's what life is made up of a lot of the time, just trying to figure out how to enjoy the good things while they last and not let the bad things blindside you too badly when they come.

Santana opens her eyes and gives me a sweet little smile. I think she's been awake for a while but she didn't want me to stop stroking my fingers up and down her arm.

I have to stop when she reaches out to put her hand on my cheek; I'm not sure where to put my own hand so I just put it on top of hers.

She licks her lips and clears her throat. "What are you thinking about?" she hushes, still smiling.

I shrug with one shoulder as I let my eyes run over her face. "I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be right now," I whisper because her room seems especially quiet this morning, like the world has stopped for us.

I wish it really would, just for a little while.

Her smile grows. "Yeah?" She mirrors my tone.

"Yeah."

The smile fades from her lips but not her eyes as she scoots closer to rest her forehead against mine. Her thumb starts ghosting across my cheek and I let my hand fall to her waist.

This moment is perfect.

She tilts her face so that she can kiss me, so softly. Softer than when we kissed on the couch yesterday, and even softer than the goodnight kiss she gave me after we tumbled into bed and snuggled up under the covers. She fell asleep so quickly and it was nice getting to cuddle _her_ to sleep for once. I think she was exhausted after not sleeping the night before.

Her hand moves to the back of my neck and she threads her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer and making our kiss deeper.

I sigh into her mouth as her tongue strokes against mine and, not for the first time, I feel like I'm melting into a pile of jello in her hands.

She rolls me onto my back so that she's on top of me as our kiss gets more heated and I slide my hands under her top and let my fingers swim across the skin on her back. She's so soft.

I let them slide all the way up to her shoulders and her top rides up so much she may as well not be wearing it.

She must be thinking the same thing as me because she pulls away from my lips, sits up and finishes pulling it off. She drops it on the floor by the bed and my eyes go wide as they flicker between her chest and her face.

She smirks down at me and grabs the hem of my tee shirt and I don't even hesitate to let her help me wriggle out of it, arching my back and stretching my arms up above my head.

She drops it on the floor next to hers before sinking back down on top of me and kissing my neck. If I felt hot before I'm positively scorching now. I love the way her boobs feel when they drag past mine and over my stomach as she kisses further down my neck and over my chest.

I let out a gasp and my hand automatically goes to the back of her head as she takes my nipple into her mouth. She uses her hand to squeeze at my other boob and my eyes close as my breathing gets ragged and uneven.

My hips keep moving of their own accord and I have to stifle a moan as my pelvis grinds against her stomach.

I'm almost relieved when she stops and kisses her way back up to my mouth because I'm embarrassed about how hot and sticky she was making me between my legs.

Our tongues push against each other right away as I slide my hands down her back and into her shorts. I squeeze her butt and pull her harder against me as we keep kissing frantically.

I start trying to push her shorts off but it's hard because we're pressed so tightly together and our kisses are so aggressive, it's distracting.

She reluctantly sits up and begins pulling them off herself. It takes a few moments because her hands are all frenzied and fumbling but I don't mind. My chest is heaving and it's nice to catch my breath.

She crawls back up my body once they're discarded, straddling my hips, and kisses me fiercely again. My hands wrap around the backs of her thighs and anchor her to my body and my heart almost stops when I realize that this is the moment when I'm supposed to start touching her.

I was so distracted by kissing and taking each other's clothes off.

My tummy trembles as I let my fingers drift to the inside of her thigh and trail up her skin. I feel the hand that she's not using to support herself clutch tightly at my shoulder and it encourages me to move my own hand that last little bit.

She stops kissing me and rests her forehead against mine as we breathe heavy, shaky breaths against each other's lips.

She feels even hotter and wetter and softer than I remember as my fingers slide up and down before I find that spot at the top again and begin making circles.

She whimpers and her grip on my shoulder tightens as I bring my free hand up to tangle in her hair. I let my thumb stroke over her cheek just in front of her ear as her breathing gets heavier and her whimpers start getting louder and more frequent.

I feel so close to her like this and it makes my heart clench inside my chest, like Santana's hand is wrapped around it, squeezing and releasing with every beat.

She opens her eyes and I feel her let go of my shoulder and move her hand between our bodies. For a moment I think she's going to start touching me too and I'm about to tell her not to because there's no way I'll be able to concentrate on making her feel good if she's doing that to me, but instead of doing that she puts her hand on top of mine and starts guiding my fingers further down.

My breath catches in my throat and my eyes go wide; I think my whole body goes stiff because Santana notices right away. "It's okay," she whispers against my lips, "it's easy, I promise."

She helps me slide one of my fingers inside her and I feel the heat all the way up my arm. She sucks her lips into her mouth and closes her eyes as she slides her cheek across mine. I don't move my hand until I feel her breath against my ear.

"One first, then two," she whispers.

I give her a tiny nod and move my finger in out of her a couple of times before sliding another inside. She gasps and I see, out of the corner of my eye, the hand she had between our bodies move to clutch a fistful of the pillow next to my head.

I have no idea what to do now so I just start moving my fingers in and out of her again, it's awkward and I'm not really sure how hard or fast I'm supposed to do it. I think inside of her is the hottest, softest, wettest thing in the whole world. Even more than on the outside. She feels _so_ good and touching her feels almost like touching myself, I can feel it between my own legs, somehow.

Waves of butterflies flood my stomach and I squirm as a muted, stuttered breath skates past my lips.

Her mouth is right next to my ear now and every breathy whimper she lets out makes my nerve endings scream. I don't think I've ever been this turned on before; my whole body is practically shaking from it.

Her noises get louder and she tucks her face into the crook of my neck as her hips start rolling with my hand. It makes my palm rub against the outside where I was touching with my fingers before. She lets out a loud moan, " _mmph,"_ that I feel vibrate against my neck before her body goes stiff against me.

Inside of her clenches tightly around my fingers and I hold my breath as she whimpers and gasps against my skin before collapsing on top of me.

She pants into my neck and I wrap my free arm around her as I wait for her to catch her breath.

When she finally pulls back, still a little breathless, she gives me a lazy smile before leaning in and giving me an even lazier kiss. I can still feel her smiling against my lips as we kiss and it makes me smile too.

My arm is still trapped between us and she lifts her hips so that I can pull my hand away before pulling away from my lips and kissing my neck, slow and firm and open-mouthed.

It reignites the fire that was burning so hot in my belly before. I think I was so happy about making her feel good that I forgot how I turned on I was for a moment.

I definitely remember now.

I feel her bite at my earlobe before she whispers in my ear. "You know, you're a pretty fast learner."

It tingles and I giggle and squirm a little before she continues. "How about I show you something else?"

Even though I don't know what it is yet I shudder at the way she says it and the way her breath feels against my ear and I don't think I've ever been so eager for something in my life.

She kisses down my neck, over my chest and between my boobs before licking a trail down my tummy. My muscles twitch and tighten and I can't help the way I arch into her.

I feel her hook her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and she doesn't waste any time in pulling them down my legs and discarding them somewhere on the floor.

The comforter had gradually worked its way further down the bed before and isn't really covering us anymore but Santana kicks it completely off anyway before she crawls back up my body.

I'm expecting so see her hovering above me any second but when I feel her hands wrap around the backs of my legs and bend my knees upwards and outwards so that my legs probably look like frog legs, something jolts inside my chest.

I sit bolt upright and Santana lets go of one of my legs to place her hand against my shoulder. I know my eyes are probably wide and she starts stroking her thumb soothingly across my skin.

I think I want her to do it, but it's different than just touching me. _So_ different. I feel like she can see everything like this.

Plus she literally can _see_ everything.

And I wonder for a moment what she meant when she said she was going to _show me_ something else, because guys have done this to me before. Not often, it always made me feel a little uncomfortable, but it's definitely nothing new.

Neither of us says anything and I just close my eyes and lay back again so that I don't make things awkward.

I try to keep my breathing even as she wraps both of her arms back around my thighs and starts kissing up the inside of my leg.

Between my legs is throbbing so badly that it almost aches and when I actually feel her lips against me I let out an embarrassingly loud moan as my hips buck up into her mouth.

She slides one of her hands to my hip to keep me still while the other strokes up and down my thigh. It feels good, what she's doing, _really_ good; better than when guys did it – maybe _that's_ what she meant - but I can't seem to stop my tummy trembling and I'm not sure why.

Her hand moves away from my thigh and a few seconds later I feel her push her fingers inside me. The pressure she's putting on my hip with her hand gets firmer as I struggle to keep my body flat against the mattress.

I'm not sure what to do with my hands so I just grab two fistfuls of the bed sheet either side of my body and grip it so tightly I'm surprised I don't tear holes in it. The muscles in my tummy get so tight that it seems to suck all the air out of my body and I can barely breathe.

I squeeze my eyes tight shut as I feel her lips pull away from between my legs and a few seconds later she's kissing me on the mouth again. Gentle and soft. Her lips taste different now.

She keeps her fingers inside me, but her free arm comes up to wrap around my head as she leans on her elbow and strokes her thumb across my forehead.

She pulls her lips away and even though I have my eyes closed I can feel her looking at me. I will my body to stop acting this way, I don't know _why_ it's acting this way and it's so frustrating.

"Just relax," she whispers, her breath hitting my lips.

I nod and try to take deep breaths but they just come out stuttered and shaky. "Do you want to stop?" she asks, her thumb still stroking over my forehead.

I shake my head and she leans in to kiss me again.

I let my lips follow hers as she kisses me so, so softly, like she's trying to draw the tension out through my mouth and into hers and swallow it down so that it can't find me again. I feel so safe with her and I briefly wonder to myself - not for the first time - how I got so lucky.

The muscles in my tummy start to loosen and unknot themselves and when Santana pulls away I open my eyes to look at her. "I think I'm okay now," I whisper.

She smiles and places one last little peck on my lips before disappearing back down my body. I feel her leave a lingering kiss on my pelvis and then her face is between my legs again; her lips and tongue making me forget why I ever felt apprehensive about this in the first place.

Her fingers start moving inside me and her free hand rests against my hip again. I move my hand down to tangle my fingers with hers while my other hand still clutches at the sheet.

Whatever she's doing feels so good that I can't keep my hips still and the noises that keep coming out of my mouth don't sound like my own voice at all. I find it harder and harder to care about how loud I'm being the tighter she winds me up, and when I come I completely lose track of everything. I have no idea what noises I make or how my body moves because all I can think or feel is Santana.

I think I might have said her name but I'm not sure, the first thing I'm really aware of is my back falling flat against the mattress again.

I throw my arms over my eyes and try to catch my breath, my breathing is _so_ heavy. I'm not sure how long I lay like that but it's long enough to feel Santana pull away from me and hear her shuffle around the bottom of the bed for a few moments.

I realize what she was doing when I feel the comforter being draped over me. Santana's warm body presses up against my side a moment later and she begins running her hand softly over my stomach.

I move my arms and open my eyes to find her leaning on her elbow, smiling down at me. A dorky grin falls over my lips and Santana smiles even bigger. It makes her dimples sink into her cheeks. She rolls her eyes as she leans in to kiss me and I wrap my arms around her neck to pull her closer.

When she pulls away she moves to lie on her back but I tighten my arms around her neck. "No, you should get the good part of the hug sometimes too," I tell her.

Her eyebrows knit together but she's still smiling. "The good part of the hug?"

"Yeah, where you lay on me and I hug you."

She cocks an eyebrow but doesn't protest. I wait for her to rest her head on my chest before wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to cradle her head against me.

I like that she can probably hear my heartbeat like this; I _want_ her to know how fast she makes it beat.

"Okay, so how is this part of the hug better?" she asks before turning her face to place a kiss on my collar bone.

"It's not," I say. I thought it was, I really did, but now we're lying like this I think this part of the hug is pretty awesome too. I like holding her this way; it makes me feel like I'm the one looking after her for once.

I feel her shoulders move a little and a puff of air against my skin as she breathes out a silent laugh. Then we're silent for a few moments before she speaks again.

"Britt?" she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I-" She gulps and fidgets a little, "I'm... really glad you're here."

Her arms tighten where they've snaked around my waist and I kiss the top of her head

"Me too."

/

We fall asleep again for a little while and when I wake up Santana is gone, but I know it's not like yesterday morning. I can hear her singing in the shower; I don't recognize the song, something about _summertime,_ she's left the bathroom door open so I can hear her clearer than the last time I heard her singing in the shower. She really does have the prettiest voice.

I decide to slip out and take a quick shower myself in the other bathroom while she's in there. When I'm done I pull on a fresh pair of pajama shorts and a tee shirt because I'm not sure if we have any plans for today and if we're staying home I might as well wear comfy clothes.

I'm relieved to see Santana has done the same thing when I find her in the kitchen; she's just wearing shorts and a tank top with her damp hair in a messy bun. When she turns around from in front of the stove I notice she isn't wearing any makeup and I still don't know how she manages to be so pretty without any makeup on at all.

She smiles at me and waves the spatula she's holding. "I'm making blueberry pancakes," she tells me.

"Awesome," I say as I move to stand next to her.

"You like them, right?"

"Yeah, I love pancakes."

"This is the last one," she says, then points with the spatula to a plate on the counter that I didn't notice before with a stack of pancakes already on it, "those are yours, and there's coffee in the pot."

She grins and I get an overwhelming urge to hug her as tightly as I possibly can, but I don't. She's busy with her last pancake, so I go and pour two cups of coffee and set them on the table before grabbing my plate. I don't know how she managed to do all this so fast; I can't have been in the shower for _that_ long.

Santana's done with cooking by the time I sit down and it doesn't take her long to join me. "Thank you," I say before I dig in. I'm actually super hungry all of a sudden and they smell really good.

She just smiles as she takes a bite from her own plateful.

"You're a really good cook," I tell her after we've been eating in silence for a few minutes.

She rolls her eyes and smiles at me. "Pancakes are easy."

"I don't know how to make them." I shrug. "Or anything, really. Unless it's stuff that you can make in the microwave or the toaster."

She lets out a sweet giggle. "Didn't your Mom ever teach you how to cook?" She goes stiff at her own words as soon as they leave her mouth. " _Fuck,_ " she mutters under her breath, "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's okay." I reach across the table and hold her hand. "It's fine." It _is_ fine; she can talk about my Mom if she wants. It's not like pretending she doesn't exist is going to make anything any better.

"I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry." She squeezes my hand.

"It's _fine_." I grin at her and roll my eyes so that she knows I'm telling the truth. "And no, she didn't. My Mom doesn't really cook that much," I tell her and shrug. Her expression doesn't change so I continue. "She did teach me to knit, though."

She smiles a little at that. "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh, when I was about fourteen. We knit a whole scarf together and gave it to my Step-Dad for Christmas."

Her eyes flicker with warmth and she gives my hand a squeeze before letting go and picking up her coffee mug.

"Is your Mom the one who taught you how to cook?" I ask her.

She nods and swallows her sip of coffee before setting the mug back down on the table. "Yeah, and my Abuela. They have all these secret family recipes that they wanted to pass on to me." She shakes her head with a fond smile.

That sounds pretty awesome; I would have loved to have done stuff like that with my Mom and my Nana. I smile at her and we go back to our pancakes.

We spend the rest of the time eating in silence, but it's a nice silence. It's relaxing and for once I feel like there isn't anything that _needs_ to be said. Plus Santana keeps looking at me a smiling and she even gives me a little wink at one point, it still makes my tummy tingle when she does that.

Once we're finished we wash up all the stuff we used together. I told her I would do it but she wouldn't let me, so she washes and I dry.

"Is Sam still calling you?" she asks out of the blue just as I'm putting the last mug away in the cupboard.

I hesitate but nod without saying anything.

"Maybe you should… talk to him." Her voice is so quiet I barely hear it.

I shrug and she turns and leans her butt against the counter before reaching out to tilt my face towards her.

"I just think you'll feel better about starting something with me if you have some closure with him first."

My eyebrows knit together. "But… I thought we already were-"

"Oh no, we are. I mean, if that's what you want… it's what I want." Her words rush out and climb over one another and she nods quickly, I think more to herself than to me. "I just mean… I think you'll _feel_ better about it, that's all."

I don't respond for a moment, I try to really _think_ about what she's said. I don't really know what else there is to say between me and Sam. I don't _like_ that it ended the way it did, but it's already happened and talking about it isn't going to change that.

"I already feel really good about us," I tell her, "Sam probably just wants his stuff back. He still has some DVDs and clothes and stuff at my place." I shrug.

She studies my face for a moment before sighing and dropping her hand to her side. "Okay," she breathes.

"You don't have to worry," I reassure her, "I'm not mad at him." She needs to know that, so that she knows that I don't need closure or anything else. I'm really happy right now and all I care about is making sure Santana and Katie are as happy as I am.

"Yeah, I know. I don't think I'll ever understand that," she says shaking her head and giving me a tight-lipped smile.

"He's a good person."

"He cheated on you," she says flatly and with her eyes closed like she's trying to hold back. I wish she wouldn't, she can say whatever she likes to me. Even if it's bad stuff that she just needs to get out, I want to hear everything she has to say.

"It's not like I'm any better," I mumble.

"You never cheated on him."

"But I wasn't honest with him, I-"

"You can't help how you feel, Britt. And you never acted on it, that's the important thing."

"But I almost did… with you." Her face softens when I say that. "That day I came here for lunch, if we'd never got interrupted I might've-"

"Brittany." She cuts me off and reaches for the hem of my tee shirt. I wonder what she's doing for a second but then I feel her pulling me towards her, a little smile pinching at her lips. "Are you really going to beat yourself up over something bad you _might_ have done if you'd had the chance?" She snakes her arms around my waist and holds me against her by the small of my back.

I put my hands either side of her on the counter and look her in the eyes. "Well, we almost-"

"But we didn't." She shrugs.

Her smiles gets bigger and I sigh. I guess she's right, I didn't _technically_ do anything, but it doesn't stop me feeling like I did do a lot of stuff wrong while I was with Sam.

I guess it doesn't matter anymore.

She leans forward and kisses me then and I pretty much forget everything we were just talking about. They're her pretty, fairy, cloud kisses again. I think that's my favorite way that she's kissed me so far. She pulls away and then darts back in again to peck my lips, then my nose, then both my cheeks and I giggle at her as she rests her forehead against mine.

"So, what did you wanna do today?" she asks.

"Whatever you wanna do," I reply.

She rolls her eyes. "How about we just have a lazy Sunday until Katie comes home?"

"A lazy Sunday?"

"Yeah." She kisses me on the cheek. "We can just snuggle on the couch and watch crappy movies and stay in our pajamas all day."

I nod and grin because that sounds awesome.

/

Santana puts on some old black and white movie that's on TV while I lay on the couch, flat on my back. When she walks over she raises her eyebrows at me from where she's standing.

"Move your legs." She pokes me in the leg as she says it.

I grin up at her and shake my head.

She breathes out a laugh. "Come on, where am I supposed to sit?"

I shrug and grab one her hands before pulling her down on top of me. She lets out a squeal and giggles. "Guess you'll just have to lay on top of me," I tell her.

She supports herself with her hands on either side of my head and grins down at me, her face is a little flushed and it's cute. "You are such a dork," she hushes before leaning down to kiss me. We both smile into the kiss and when she pulls away she rolls us so that we're on our sides facing each other.

"We should play _twenty questions_ or something," I tell her.

She snorts. "Why?"

"Like, _getting to know you_ questions…"

"I think we already know each other, Britt," she says, smiling as her hand comes up to rest against my neck.

I hold her waist and shrug. "I don't know… your favorite color," I say.

She snorts again and rolls her eyes. "It's black," she tells me, "what's yours?"

"Yellow… we're like a bee."

She giggles. "If you say so."

"I do. How many places have you been to?"

"Umm… too many to count." She shrugs.

"Where have you been?"

She rolls her eyes again. "Uh… I've been to the Dominican Republic a bunch of times 'cause a lot of my family still lives out there. Um… Florida, Hawaii, Mexico, Canada, California. Uh, I think there's more but I can't remember." She smiles and moves her hand up to cup my cheek. "What about you?"

I almost don't want to tell her because my list is a little pathetic next to hers. "Well, I've been to Ohio," I say and she smiles bigger. "And Nebraska and Michigan."

"Those are all the places you've lived, right?"

I tell her, "Yes," and she nods.

"What do your parents do?" I ask.

She starts absently trailing her pointer finger down my cheek and my neck and then up and down my arm. "My Dad's a doctor, and my Mom…" She pauses and licks her lips. "Okay, promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course I won't laugh," I tell her.

"She's an elementary school teacher," she mumbles, "That's why I'm one now."

"Why would I laugh at that?" I smile at her, "My brother did the same thing. My Mom used to be a nurse; it's nice to follow in your parents' footsteps." I half shrug with shoulder that isn't smushed into the couch. She doesn't need to feel silly about that, I'm pretty sure _I_ would have done the same thing too if I was smart enough to be a nurse.

"Your Mom used to be a nurse?" She raises her eyebrows and sounds surprised.

"Yep. A long time ago, not since I was little."

She nods. "What about your Dad?"

"He has a cattle ranch back in Nebraska. So do you not like being a teacher?" That would be a shame; she's so good at it.

"No, I like it _._ I like doing something where I feel like I'm making a difference, and I like working with kids. I guess there isn't anything else I really want to do instead so it's okay. But I'd be lying if I said I did it off my own back."

"Your Mom wanted you to do it?"

She nods. "I think she thought a job like that might… _straighten me out_. 'Cause it's just so _suburban_ , ya know?"

"You wouldn't wanna live in the suburbs?" I ask.

She shrugs. "I grew up in the suburbs. It was suffocating. I'd like to live in the city."

"Like Columbus?"

She shrugs again. "Yeah… maybe."

"I like this," I whisper, smiling a little. I love it when she tells me things about her.

She leans in and starts kissing me again and I pull her closer by her waist. I really like kissing her like this; when we're just kissing and I know it isn't going to lead anywhere else, – not that I don't love _those_ kinds of kisses too - it feels like we're trying to soak up as much of each other as we can.

"Tell me something else," she whispers as she pulls away.

I smile because I think she likes my _getting to know you_ game now. "Like what?" I hush as she goes back to cupping my cheek.

"I don't know, _anything_."

"Um…" I look upwards and try to think of something to say, I'm really not all that interesting and I think I'd much rather just ask more questions about her. Or maybe I could just tell her one of the infinite number of things I think about her every day because I'm pretty sure they're all good and things that she would like to hear.

"When I first met you I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen," I tell her and turn my face half into the sofa cushion as I feel my cheeks start heating up.

She rolls her eyes but her smile is so big. "Yeah, well, I get that a lot," she says and I giggle.

"You do, huh?" That doesn't really surprise me.

"Yeah, but it sounds a lot better coming from you."

She leans forward and I think she's about to kiss me again when my phone starts buzzing on the coffee table. Santana groans and I lean in to peck her on the cheek as I roll over her and off of the couch.

It's Ryan. As we're talking I see Santana sit up and start flicking through the TV channels with the remote. I guess she was bored of the movie, not that we were watching it anyway.

When I hang up I go drop down next to her on the couch and rest my head on her shoulder. "I had no idea what was going on in that movie," she says as she settles on re-runs of _Frasier._

"Me neither."

"Everything okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, that was Ryan. They're on their way back," I tell her.

"Oh, they're a little early."

"Yeah, sorry. Is that okay?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." She wraps her arms around me and pulls me closer, "did he say why?"

"No but Katie sounded a little home-sick when I called to say goodnight, last night. Maybe it's 'cause of that." I shrug. "He did say we have to talk about stuff, though."

"Talk about what?"

"He didn't say. He just said something's happened and we need to talk and I'll see what it is when they get here."

She pauses for a moment. "… _Okay_."

She sounds unsure so I tighten my arms around her middle and snuggle into her chest. "I'm sure it's nothing bad."

/

Santana says we should get dressed and tidy up a little before Katie gets back. I'm not sure why because the apartment is already really tidy and I'm sure nobody will care about us being in our pajamas; but I agree with her anyway because she seems a little on edge and I'm sure she has a good reason.

It gets to the point where we're just re-tidying things that have already been tidied and I'm pretty sure we couldn't possibly be any more _ready_ for Katie to get back before I finally get her to relax.

I sit on the couch and have her rest her head in my lap as I run my fingers through her hair. She closes her eyes and practically purrs as I start scratching my nails gently up and down her neck.

"Do you feel better now?" I ask her. I keep my voice hushed because I don't want her to stop being relaxed.

"What d'you mean? I'm fine," she mumbles.

"You just seemed a little… tense… when we were cleaning up."

She lets out a heavy sigh. "I know, sorry."

"Don't be," I soothe as I bury my hands in her hair again.

"I don't like not knowing what's going on," she hushes, "It makes me anxious. I get way too anxious about way too many things." She turns her face further into my lap.

I try to ignore the pang of guilt I feel at that. "That's okay. Everybody has stuff that makes them feel that way." I always get anxious about saying the wrong things to people or sounding stupid, and lately I've been _super_ anxious about Katie.

"I just hate it. I don't know how anyone puts up with me." She lets out another sigh and my hands still in her hair.

I lean down and hug her as best I can in this position. "I like every, single thing I know about you," I whisper in her ear. I wanted to say _love,_ but I'm still not sure if it's okay for me to tell her that yet. I want her to know, but I don't want her to think I'm saying it just because I expect her to say it back.

She turns so that she's on her back and facing me so I move back a little to give her room. My hair falls down and tickles her face and she reaches up to brush it behind my ear. She's smirking at me and it seems out of place after how she was talking a moment ago.

"You're just saying that 'cause you wanna get in my pants."

I snort out a laugh but before I can say anything back she pulls me down into a kiss. It's kind of uncomfortable because of the position and we don't get to kiss for long because the doorbell buzzes.

Santana sighs against my lips. "Did you wanna get that?" she asks.

I nod and tell her, "Okay," and she sits up so that I can move.

"Brittany!" Katie squeals and throws herself at me as soon as I open the door. I pick her up and wrap her in a tight hug. I'm _so_ glad she's back and that she seems to be okay.

"Uh…" Ryan clears his throat from the hall, "Britt?"

I look up and my heart jolts and clenches because it's not Dustin standing next to Ryan in the doorway.

It's Richard.

Katie pulls back and starts jigging up and down in my arms. "I'm going home with Daddy!" She grins and squirms to get down so I let her go.

Richard takes a tentative step forwards then and pulls me into a hug. "I am _so_ sorry, Britt. If I'd known I woulda come back right away." He pulls back and holds me at arm's length. "I really am so sorry you had to deal with this, honey," he says, shaking his head.

"No… d-don't be," I stutter, breathless. My chest feels super tight all-of-a-sudden.

"We just came to get the rest of her stuff, I'm gonna take her back to the house. You don't have to worry anymore." He squeezes my shoulders before letting go and I just nod. I haven't really looked at his face properly yet but I know he's probably looking at me with kind eyes. He's always had kind eyes.

"We should go pack!" Katie chirps from where she's standing next to Richard, "My room's back there." She points and starts tugging at his hand.

Richard looks awkwardly at Santana, who I've only just noticed is standing next to me now. "Um, is that okay?" he asks. Santana nods.

I watch as he takes a duffle bag from Ryan and then lets Katie lead him through the apartment. Ryan finally steps inside and closes the door when they're gone.

"He was at his Mom's, like I thought," he tells me, "We went there this morning and he was there. He'd changed his number, that's why we couldn't get him on the phone."

I nod, but don't say anything.

"You don't think a little warning would've been nice?" Santana's voice shocks me a little; I wasn't expecting her to say anything.

Ryan's face hardens. "I didn't think it was the kinda thing I should explain over the phone."

"Yeah because showing up on my doorstep and just dropping this on her was a far better idea…"

"I'm sorry, _who_ are you again?" Ryan snaps and it feels like all the air gets sucked out of the room.

Santana purses her lips and doesn't retort but she still looks pretty mad as we all just stand around looking at each other. I should say something, I _know_ I should. Ryan shouldn't be talking to Santana like that, especially after everything she's done for us. But I also get why he didn't want to tell me over the phone. I don't know what I'm supposed to say or who I'm supposed to say it to, so I slip my hand into Santana's and squeeze and hope that it's enough.

I swallow down the panic that bubbles up when Ryan notices and his eyebrows knit together.

The awkward silence is broken when Katie comes bounding back into the room, Richard trailing behind her carrying the now much fuller-looking duffle bag.

"I should get Katie's snacks," I tell them as they come to a stop in front of us. Richard's brow furrows and I feel Santana's hand tighten in my own. I'm talking about the kiddie snacks I got Katie when we went grocery shopping. It's not like Santana and I are going to eat them and there probably isn't much edible food back at the house so they should take them.

"I'll be right back," I tell them. I let go of Santana's hand but she follows me through the apartment and out into the kitchen anyway.

I find an old grocery bag in one of the drawers and open the cupboards to start loading it up with the cookies and potato chips that we would give Katie for a treat if she ate all her dinner.

I don't realize how badly I'm shaking and how hard I'm finding it to breathe until I feel Santana's hand on my shoulder. I drop the now full grocery bag onto the counter and take deep breaths.

"They can't do this, you know," Santana whispers, "if this isn't what you want, they can't just show up here and take her."

I shake my head but don't look at her. "This is how it's supposed to be," I say, "he's her Dad, she should be with her Dad."

"That's not what you want…"

"It doesn't matter." I put my hand on hers which is still on my shoulder because my voice is shaky and doesn't sound anywhere near as reassuring as I want it to. "I have no right- she's not mine."

I look at her now and it's almost too much. I can't look at her face when she's looking at me that way, it'll just make me cry and I _can't_ cry.

I pick up the grocery bag and march out of the kitchen and back into the living room, where Ryan and Richard are double checking that they have everything and Katie is playing with Lizard. I hand the grocery bag to Richard. "It's just all Katie's favorite snacks," I tell him, trying to keep my voice even. He nods.

"Okay, say goodbye, honey," he says to Katie.

She stands up from where she was petting Lizard and bounces over to me. "Bye, Britt-Britt," she says as she hugs me around my middle.

"B-bye, sweetie," I stammer as I cradle her head against my stomach.

"Maybe you should say thank you to Miss Lopez," Richard tells her.

I see Santana stiffen a little beside me at the mention of her name but she doesn't say anything as Katie lets go of me and turns to hug her too.

"Thank you, Miss Lopez," she mumbles into Santana's shirt.

"You're welcome, sweetie. And you can come back and visit Lizard any time, okay?"

Katie nods as she pulls away and I feel my chest get impossibly tight as they all head towards the door.

Ryan mumbles an awkward goodbye and Richard pulls me into another hug. "I'll see you tomorrow when I pick Katie up from school, okay?"

I just nod because I don't think I could speak right now if I tried. I don't like this; I don't want this to happen. Maybe if I'd had more time to get used to the idea, I think I feel worse now than when I found out my Mom had left us. Does that make me a bad person? Katie's not mine, she never was. She _needs_ her parents, and I know I'm just being selfish by wanting her to stay with me.

Santana walks up behind me after they close the door behind them and starts rubbing her hands up and down my arms.

"You're still gonna see her all the time," she whispers.

I nod and swallow down my tears. I try to keep reminding myself about how happy Katie was to be going home with her Dad. It makes it easier, knowing she's happy, even if it stings a little that she obviously isn't going to miss me as much as I'll miss her. But kids are fickle like that, this past week I was her everything and now her Dad is back she doesn't need me that way anymore. That's how it should be.

"She's never going to forget everything you've done for her. You know that, right?"

I nod again in response, and try not to cry at the fact that she knows exactly what's bothering me the most about all this without me having to say it out loud.

/

"Britt, you don't have to do this," Santana tells me from the bedroom doorway.

I've almost finished packing the second of my two bags. It took longer than I thought it would because my stuff was scattered between two rooms.

"You don't need me here taking up your space anymore," I reply as I zip up the duffle bag and look around to check that I got everything.

Santana sighs and takes a couple of steps towards me. "I _like_ you being here. Just… just wait until tomorrow, at least, when you're not so upset."

"I'm not upset," I tell her. It's a lie and we both know it. That's the reason I'm leaving now, I don't want to break down in front of her. She doesn't need that and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold myself together. At least if I go home she won't have to see it.

"Britt." She closes the space between us and takes my hands in hers, clutching them to her chest. I can't bring myself to look her in the eye. " _Please_ don't go. Just stay tonight," she whispers.

"I'll come back for Lord Tubbington tomorrow," I say, as pull my hands away from hers. I swing one bag over each shoulder and head out of the bedroom with Santana following close behind me.

"Well I'm taking you home, at least," she tells me, grabbing her keys from the coffee table.

I don't argue as I open the front door and step out into the hall.

She takes the bags from me – kind of forcefully - once we get down to the car and loads them into the trunk. I think she's mad and I want to tell her so badly that I'm not going because I _want_ to go, and I want to tell her how much I appreciate everything she's done and that I don't know how I'll ever repay her. But every time I open my mouth to say something my throat closes up around the words.

It only takes about thirty seconds to drive from Santana's building to mine and neither of us says anything. Once we stop I go to open the door but I feel Santana's hand on my arm. I turn to look at her but she still doesn't say anything.

Her eyebrows are knitted together and she looks like there are a million things she _wants_ to say but none of them will come out. Instead she just gives me a subtle nod and lets go of my arm again. We look at each other for a moment longer and I feel like a silent understanding passes between us.

She helps me carry my bags up to my apartment and once we've dumped them inside I walk her to the door and pull her into a tight hug.

Her arms wrap around my waist and I feel her bury her face in my hair and take in a deep breath. I open my mouth to thank her again but the words still won't come out and I shake my head in frustration.

When Santana pulls back she cups my cheek for a moment. "I'm gonna call you later, okay?"

I nod and try my best to give her a reassuring smile as she pulls away.

I feel all the air leave my lungs as soon as I close the door behind her. I double over for a second and support myself with my hands on my thighs before looking around for somewhere I can sit.

The bed is directly in front of me so I head for that and wonder for a moment how I've managed to forget the entire layout of my apartment. I think it's because I can't think properly right now, I know if I had a clear head I wouldn't have had to actually _think_ about where the bed or the couch are.

I collapse onto the mattress and curl up in the fetal position as hot tears start rolling down my face. My chest aches and my whole body wracks with sobs and I think I'm crying so violently because I've been trying to hold it in for the past half an hour or so, since Katie left.

I don't know how long I cry for but it's long enough for my head to start getting less cloudy and for me to start noticing things. Like how cold my bed feels after not sleeping in it for a week and how there's a thin layer of dust on all the surfaces I can see.

I sniffle and whimper and clutch at my pillow, and as I squeeze my eyes shut to try to dam the tears that just won't stop coming out, I hear the door open and close.

It startles me but I don't open my eyes, even when I hear footsteps padding across the floor towards me. I know it's Santana.

I feel the bed dip behind me and I stiffen a little as her arms wrap around me and she hugs me from behind. I definitely know it's her now because I can smell her perfume.

"You're so silly," she whispers in my ear.

I shake my head but it's not to say _no_ , I'm not really sure why I'm shaking my head, I guess I just don't know what else to do.

I turn quickly in her arms and hug her tightly, burying my face in the crook of her neck.

"Why did you do that, huh?" she asks gently and I'm not sure what she means. "Why would you wanna be here all alone like this?" She hugs me tighter and I feel myself start to cry harder again.

"I just h-hate this," I choke out, "I hate that we met like this, w-when all this weird stuff was happening." I whimper and sniffle a little. "I just want to be h-happy and make you happy and help _you_ with stuff and I _swear_ I'm not always like this." I start shaking my head for no reason again.

I wipe at my eyes with my sleeve and hope that that made as much sense out loud as it did in my head. Santana stops hugging me and uses both of her hands to hold my face and make me look at her. She wipes a few tears away with her thumbs before she says anything.

"Britt," she hushes, "I _like_ helping you and being here for you." She sniffs and shakes her head and I notice tears forming in her eyes too.

"Look, I _hate_ that all these things have happened to you, you don't deserve them and I wish that things were different for you. But I'm _so_ glad I met you when I did. I don't like thinking about you dealing with all this without anyone to help you. And I know that you have your friends and your brother and you'll never be _alone,_ but I want you to know that whatever happens I will _always_ be here. Gladly, okay?"

I nod and she wipes away the few little tears of her own that escaped before putting her hand back on my face and stroking her thumbs across my cheeks.

"I love you," I tell her. My voice breaks and my lips tremble because I'm still crying and it isn't exactly how I pictured saying it to her for the first time. But it seemed like the right thing to say and I'm glad I said it; she deserves to hear it. I don't even mind that she just gives me a pained smile instead of saying it back.

When she leans forward to kiss me I happily kiss her back. It feels weird; doing something that usually feels so good when I feel so sad. I can feel our tears mixing together on my face and it feels like we're doing the opposite of what we should be doing. Except I'm not really sure what the opposite of kissing is.

All I know right now is that I love Santana and she's kissing me and all I want to do is get lost in it. Now more than ever I _want_ it to make the world stop.

So we keep kissing.

**To be continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is over but the sequel is up now :)


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